The First Crack in the Metal
by XMMishimaX
Summary: Sequel to Quality of the Sword is Determined by the Wielder of the Flame. Two years after the events of Tekken 3, KOIF4 has been announced..Will Jin and Hwoarang finally get it right or let it fall apart, forever. HwoJin YAOI.
1. Prologue: The First Crack in the Metal

The First Crack in the Metal shows the Impurity of Design

Prologue

A single Black feather.

Hwoarang studied the momento, twirling the stem of the thing between his fingers as though he expected it to disappear as frighteningly as it arrived. It had been two years since the horrific moment this gift came into his possession; two years since the King of Iron Fist Tournament had ended and the rumor of Jin Kazamas death first reached the Blood Talons ears.

_Two years. Long fucking time to still be thinking about him._ The Korean mused as he watched the firm feather move between his fingers. _Long fucking time to blame yourself for what happened._

The Blood Talon looked over his shoulder, into the smoke filled haze of the bar. Ruffians all around him, familiar scents and sounds. He shrugged his shoulders with an inner smirk and set the black feather back into his army bag. It was good to be back in his scene.

Rising from his stool, Hwoarang set up on an empty pool table, carefully wracking the set up to give himself a chance to recall nearly abandoned skills. By now, the word of his return had gone out to the people that mattered, to the street soldiers he had left behind in hasty imprisonment with the Korean Military. The Blood Talon had no desire for the service, but it seemed his homeland had different thoughts on the matter and drafted him post haste.

_Should've been me on that plane to South America takin' on Toshin, beating the shit out of that creature for killing DoSan. That rematch between Kazama and I was long overdue and now its just one more thing left undone in my life._

The Blood Talon was heavy in thought as the cue ball sent the rest scattering with a hard click. The mere thought of Jin made Hwoarangs arm unsteady. He was angry...angry that he would never have the satisfaction of beating Kazama all proper like, angry that things fell apart the way they did and that there was no one to blame but himself.

_I wanted him out of my bed, yeah, but not out of my world. Hell, lets face it, I didnt even want him out of my bed. I wanted not to love him back, I wanted things to be the way they used to be, all balls to bone, blood and sweat like the back alleys of Korea that one fateful night that rich boy stepped into my life. I just wanted to beat him, for real...clear the air and clear my mind. I guess when it came to Jin Kazama, I didnt know what I really wanted. Lover or enemy, friend or rival. _

Hwoarang never said it to another living soul but he swore he felt the moment Kazama Jin died. He heard the rumors of Heihachi taking a swan dive out of the temple window in South America. The Blood Talon also heard that fall did not include Jin. But somewhere in the distance when he touched down on his homeland soil, Hwoarang swore he heard a gunshot and felt a part of himself die.

Another ball sunk in the corner pocket. The table was growing more and more empty of shots. Hwoarang picked up his beer and took a heavy sip from that long neck and sighed as he leaned down to line himself up again. No matter where the Blood Talon escaped to, he swore he met himself there already. Even this bar had memories. It was two years ago he had beaten down a bunch of punks that sized him up, talking shit about seeing he and Jin cycling through the streets. That had been the day he picked Jin up from the library, took him for some good Korean cuisine and then, gave himself to the Japanese beauty in that dank run down hovel he called his "place".

_Every street I walk, its like he is right here._

Hwoarang took a deep breath and narrowed his sienna eyes. "Eight ball, corner left pocket."

Jin stood stone still and reread that newspaper article over and over again. The tag line stood out, bold and impressive and though he had memorized every typed letter, his eyes kept returning to the header. **Mishima Financial Empire to host King of Iron Fist Tournament 4.**

_Two years. Two years of fighting the nightmares, of trying to find a new life in Australia and now, this. _

Taking a deep breath, Kazama Jin forced himself to fold the article up and stuff it in his pocket. He felt it happening, the rage of anger and fear pressing against his spine like a plunging, merciless dagger. It was as though Heihachi himself was reaching back across time and distance to rip Jin into the fabric of the present, to rip him away from peace and serenity...to make the Devil Within rise up.

All Jin wanted was to be left alone. To continue to train in the Art of Shotokan, to forsake every last thought of the cursed blood that flowed through his veins. But even that it seemed, was not good enough.

Returning his gym bag to his shoulder, Jin drew his hood up once more, preferring to keep himself cloaked when out in public. His small apartment was not far away from the traditional Karate dojo he had been training at, had been unlearning the Mishima style art he had once pleaded to partake in. He walked through a cacophony of streets instead of taking the quick way home. Jin did not trust the agents of the Zaibatsu, fearing at all times that he was being hunted.

After an hour of different streets and alley ways, Jin turned the key in the lock and pressed his back against the door, letting his gym bag fall to the ground as his head tipped back, hood releasing from the top of his head with the motion. Every fear, every sensation, every dread Jin had harbored over the past two years was now staring him in the face.

_I am never going to be free of Heihachi Mishima. I am never going to be free of this curse, this poison in my blood. And that is what you want, Oujiisan. You want me to feel this way, to feel beckoned and controlled like a dog. You want to do to me as you did to my father..._

The thought was infuriating and Jin clenched his teeth, his body straightening against the door. "No. Not now...please...not now." He begged with scattered breath, eyes shutting tight and hands raising to grasp his ebony tendrils as though he could stave off the sensation, put the creature back in its cage.

Frantic eyes could see the black markings etching down his arms as the sleeves fell back and Jin pleaded again in silence to make this sensation stop...to think of returning to Yakushima to visit the memories of his mother. Thoughts of Jun could make the most painful sensations fly from him...but the demon that stirred within Jin saw only agony, pain and death.

The words came clear to his mind as Jin Kazama sank against the door, tears rushing to the rim of his eyes. The Blood would have to be cleansed, the lineage ended. In the name of honour, Heihachi Mishima could not be allowed to live.


	2. The Forge, Abandoned

Chapter One

The Forge, Abandoned.

"Well, I guess the rumors are true." Saatchi said with a dark smile, coming closer to the Blood Talon and instantly clasping arms with the gang leader.

"Ahh, Saatchi. You're a sight for a sore eyes." Hwoarang laughed. "Did you think I would leave you all to your own ends for a minute longer?"

"When word went out you went AWOL, I knew this is where you would end up." Chang cocked a smirk, taking his turn to solidify his relationship to the Blood Talon with his own clasp of hands. "Its good to see you."

"Its good to be seen. Lets keep the AWOL stuff on the down low, don't want to get caught up when the military comes looking for me." Hwoarang said, taking up his beer. "Hey, where's Han?" He wondered, not seeing his lieutenant traveling with the others.

"He's doing time. Caught disturbing the peace…with his fists." Saatchi said with a shake of his head. "Han will be back in about 45 days. He's already served 5 months. Hey, anyone need a refill?"

"Yeah." Hwoarang said with a half smile. "Fucking Han, man. I thought I taught him better than this. So, tell me how is business?"

Chang beckoned the Blood Talon toward a booth while Saatchi went to the bar. "Just like you, never taking a moment to look at anything but business."

"Well, I don't play when it comes to money. So what's the stats and where's the haunt?"

Chang sat down after Hwoarang tossed his bags into the booth. "We have taken up in the Yurei district, not too far from here. I know you are partial to the Shinjuku but the heat has been on too much to stay. The action is a little less but the area is safer, well hidden."

"Tell me more." Hwoarang said, propping his arm up on a bent knee as he laid back in the booth, casual as usual. He took a moment to light a cigarette and let his head press against the dank wall. Chang was his first choice for a temporary replacement. The two had a long standing friendship that dated back to DoSan. At one time, they were the right and left hand of their former Master.

"While you were gone, I received your messages from Kiichu. I understand why you would not let me answer. She was a good messenger between us and it was ingenious to plant the letters with her and have them sent to Japan."

Hwoarang laughed. "I had no intentions of going AWOL until I found out about the tournament but you know I had to check up on you and see how the gang was progressing. Not to mention spend a alittle of this pent up energy on the right kind of company. Now, continue." There would be more time for personal talk when they were alone.

Chang nodded as Saatchi returned with a round, the clinking glass drawing the Blood Talons eyes. "We have recruited many here as you requested, keeping them on a sliding pay scale according to what they bring in. Times have been prosperous. We have been fortunate."

Saatchi took a seat, grasping his beer. "Chang has been a hard ass, but I am sure you had something to do with that."

"I gave my directives, Chang followed them. That's what a good lieutenant does." Hwoarang said, finishing his long neck bottle and reaching for another. Ever since the episode where Han had challenged him and was more than likely backed silently by Saatchi, the Blood Talon had little trust in his soldier.

Chang continued, feeling the tension and knowing the reasons behind it. "All other arrangements have been taken care of and your bike is out front. I brought it here myself. Damn, it is good to have you back."

"Yeah, its good to be back. And thank you, Chang." Hwoarang said with a smile, taking a long swallow of his beer. "Now, its time to get things back on track and it starts with this Tournament."

Ling Xiaoyu lifted her attention from the book she had been footnoting and dropped the pencil, rubbing her eyes. It was already after 1am and the sound of the night welcomed her from the open window. She stretched languidly and drew her leg up to her chest, contemplating if enough research for her paper had been done for one night.

University had been difficult but the end was in sight. Her first degree was within her grasp and it was nice to be home instead of her dorm at Mishima Tech. Grandfather Wang had insisted she return during the week to train. Weekends alone and what spare time she had available to her for practice would not be enough to win the grand prize.

Closing off her light, Ling rose and moved to the bed near the open window, drawing the covers back and sliding in. The mattress was like a glove around her, a warm and familiar thing that made her feel at ease.

As Ling began to drift into the blissful arms of sleep, soft thuds, like pebbles on glass reawakened her. "What is that noise?" She asked groggily, wiping her eyes once more before attempting to close them. The sound came again and again until she finally threw off the blanket and turned the light at her desk on once more.

Ling went to the window, glancing outside and wondering what was hitting against her pane. There was no strong breeze to flit acorns against the siding, no hail or heavy rain to make such a pitter pat noise. In fact, Ling could not see a single reason for the sound…until her eyes adjusted to the darkness outside.

Not even pausing to slide slippers onto her feet, Ling ran from her room and out of the house as quietly as she could, sliding the door closed as her hands came around upper arms to ward off the chill.

"Is it really you?" She asked to the blackness, and after a long moment of silence the blackness replied.

"I have come back…" The voice was soft and dim, familiar.

Ling could not believe her eyes. Jin Kazama was standing in the dark, just feet away from her. Though she could not discern his face, which was covered by a dark hood, she knew the form of his body, the scent of his skin…the feeling she always had when he was near to her.

Without another hesitation, Ling ran to the figure and embraced what first seemed incorporeal but became firm and living beneath her hold. "Jin. I can't believe its you. It has been so long…and I have been so worried."

Jin carefully returned the hold, smiling softly beneath the cover of darkness to have Ling near to him once more. She was his only friend and perhaps the only one in this world he could trust. That had been earned long ago by her discretion with his prior secrets and prior life. "There is no need to worry. Did you not receive my email?"

Ling wiped her eyes, now rimmed with tears and profoundly punched Kazama in the upper arm. "That was two years ago! What a cryptic message, beware of Mishima Heihachi…and that was all it said? I questioned myself up until this very moment that the damn email was from you to begin with! Everyone thinks your dead!"

Jin nodded softly as he put a finger over her lips to silence her excited tone. _I am dead. Inside. _ "Shh. I do not wish for any to know I have come. Everyone may think I am dead…but Heihachi Mishima is not everyone."

Ling pursed her lips as Jin withdrew his finger. "What happened to you? Where have you been and why haven't you called me or at least emailed me. I sent a hundred replies and the address on the email kept coming up as non existent."

"It is a long story, Ling. And I have not tried to contact you because I feared I would put you in danger. I will explain what I can another time. I came to see you just after I checked in to the motel I will be staying at until my business here is completed." Jin said with an uncharacteristic slowness to his voice, a calm hush that held no emotions, held no feeling. It was as though Jin was distanced even from himself.

"So you have come for the tournament then?" She asked but already knew the answer.

"I have come because I have no other choice." He replied calculatingly.

"Why are you speaking so weird? Like you don't even know me?" Ling shivered in the cool air.

"Because it has been two years, Ling. I barely know myself anymore…and I feel I have forgotten what it means to speak to another human being unless it is in a dojo. Give me time and I will find that small part of myself again." Jin said in all honesty. Never one for lying to begin with, Jin truly felt awkward now that his two years of respite had passed him. Other than speaking sparingly to his Sensei, the Japanese youth truly spoke to no other with the exception of politeness, a thank you here and a your welcome there. He was too afraid to make himself known, to find friends and others to share his time. Too many secrets to guard, too much at stake if he was ever discovered in Australia.

"I just don't get you, Jin. But alright, you made your excuse for now. So, where are you staying?" Ling asked, changing the subject.

"I can not tell you that…but I can say, it is under another name." he sighed softly. "Return to your bed, Ling. I will find you again soon. I am pleased to see you, after so long."

Ling tilted her head to the side with that fiery smile. "Oh no you don't. You disappear for two years and now you tell me you will find me. We are making a date right now. You will meet me for lunch tomorrow…in your place..by the water."

Jin smiled. How could he refuse. Ling was a sight for sore eyes. "Alright and I will tell you everything then."

Ling leaned up and kissed Jin on the side of his cheek, where the hood gave away the only sight of the Japanese youths skin. "Alright. Goodnight Jin."

Jin nodded and began to walk away, pausing when he heard her whisper once more. "I really missed you. I am glad you are home." was all she said before bounding back into grandfathers house and closing the door softly behind her.

_Home. What was home but a stack of broken thoughts and memories, a lie lived for too long in deceit. Home is Yakushima. Home is at peace, in the ground beside my mother. Home may be something I will never see again…but home is not anywhere Heihachi Mishima lives and breaths._

Hwoarang followed Chang on his bike. It felt good to have the familiar American leather and metal between his thighs, the wind whipping through the errant tendrils that came out of his pony tail. The military had made him cut it spiky and short but he had been growing it slowly during SpecOps and now it was almost to the line of his chin if he let the small ponytail down.

The brilliant lights of the districts were a flash to the Blood Talons eyes. The world felt alive again, exhilarating and filled with potential. Saatchi had been sent out onto the streets to inform the others the leader had returned, not privileged to the conversations soon to be had.

Deep into the Yurei district, Hwoarang killed the engine of his bike and slowly dismounted, unpacking the bags he had slung to the rear. Shouldering the heavy satchels, he awaited Chang to open the door for him.

"Follow me." Chang said with a smile as he led the way up the stairs of the building, coming to the top of 5 floors to the only apartment door. Once the key slid in, the portal opened and Hwoarang took a long look inside. "This is the place I rented for you. Paid in cash. I figured you might want something away from the main scene, something you can come home to."

The Blood Talon had to say he was impressed. It was a one bedroom apartment, recently painted. The kitchen had a stove and refrigerator, a small table and chairs and a microwave. Upon further inspection, the living room held a leather couch and end tables, a coffee table and a hutch that housed a television and gaming system and of course, a stereo.

"Nicely done, Chang." He said, dropping his gear.

"I picked up a few things, some essentials you would need. I recall your fondness for leather and I thought you would not mind." He laughed and locked the door behind them, leaving the only set of keys on the kitchen range.

Hwoarang stepped into the bedroom and smiled. It was as big as the remaining apartment. The bed was made with fresh linens, the head and footboard polished, a wardrobe ready and waiting to be used. His posters had been returned to the walls, framed this time, to keep them from any further state of decay. On the other end of the bedroom was his hanging kick bag with enough room to move. Magazines and old newspaper clippings that could be saved from the prior den had been stacked in basket in the corner of the room. A separate door led to the bathroom. It too was nicely sized with a bathrub that had small openings for jets to relieve tension filled muscles.

"Business has been very good." Hwoarang laughed.

"It has. And here. This is your cut." Chang reached into his backpack and withdrew a hefty wad, reaching out his hand to place it into Hwoarangs. "You will find every cent there."

If the Blood Talon held Chang on a pedestal before this, it was now made of platinum. He reached in for the money and drew his lieutenant in for a tight, fond embrace. "You are good to me, Chang."

"As you have been good to me. You gave me everything I could ever need when I had nothing to give in return. If you never would have taken me under your wing, never introduced me to Do San…never cared for me like blood, I would not have survived. I would have rotted of disease and starvation."

"There was never a debt, Chang. You are like blood to me." The Blood Talon tossed the money onto the dresser and closed the light in the bathroom.

"It is not about the debt, it is about brotherhood. Come, I will get us a beer." He said with a smile, happy to be of service.

"I don't think I have ever had a place as nice as this." Hwoarang said softly and followed Chang to the kitchen. "Well, now that the tournament is here, business should really start pumping. I want every available hand out there to make some cash. And I want you to take a break from the street, rookie in the new recruits, show them the ropes and take care of the bookkeeping. I noticed that bruise on your face, its faded now but no one has ever gotten a good hook in on you."

Chang handed off a beer to Hwoarang. "Met up with a British fighter, a boxer. Couldn't tell by the look of him and he seemed to know how to play the game. We came to a draw. He said his name was Steve and he was here for the tournament, might be someone to look for." _Steve Fox. Now that's a name from the past…I was on leave from a Spec Ops assignment in the UK…and he was a welcome distraction…_

Hwoarang laughed it off. He knew Steve, better than he wanted to admit. "I fought to a draw once. It got me into nothing but trouble. You remember, you were there."

Chang nodded and took a swig of his beer, stepping into the living room and waiting for the Blood Talon to try out the new leather couch before he joined him. "Kazama, Jin."

The name was like a knife in the heart. Hwoarang tipped his head back for another sweet sip. "Anything?"

Chang shook his head. "Nothing. I had some white collars working on it for awhile, called in a few favors. The name is as dead as he is, I am afraid. I did stumble across another Kazama that seems to be related."

"Oh?" Hwoarang said with one brow raised.

"Kazama, Jun. His mother. She is buried on the small island of Yakushima. The house they shared was burned to the ground apparently. Her death certificate reads something like a dictionary, but apparently she was beaten to death. Jin left the island by the time he was 15 almost 16 and came to live with his paternal grandfather, Mishima Heihachi." Chang replayed all the information he had about the dead woman.

"Anything on Jins father?" He did not say so, but the Blood Talon had heard the name Jun before. Baek DoSan often spoke of the woman but never gave a last name that he could recall. Apparently, she was a strong and beautiful competitor in one of the previous tournaments. She was someone very well respected and very well loved by the Blood Talons former Master.

Hwoarang was not sure why he wanted to know this about his former rivals family. Jin was dead. But at least he could feel like Kazama was still living by hearing his name…and the names of his kin, spoken aloud.

"Mishima Kazuya. Killed in the second King of Iron Fist Tournament. Ruled as an accident but his body was never recovered. His last match was against Mishima Heihachi." Chang said brushing a hand back through his hair.

"Thank you, Chang." Hwoarang said after long moments of silence.

"There are others but they are distant relations, cousin and such on the Kazama side. I doubt they have any relevance to the situation. And an adopted brother to the Mishima family, a Chaolan Lee, former competitor in the King of Iron Fist. Also a Korean. His whereabouts remain unknown." He replied, flatly. Hwoarang knew there was more.

"What is it? What are you holding back?" Hwoarang asked, turning to face his blood brother.

"I wanted you to know ahead of time that I have taken care of it but Saatchi went around for sometime spilling his ideas about you and Jin. He found Kazama Jin's jacket in your rooms. I had it removed and hung here. I knew you would want to keep it."

"And what was Saatchi saying, I was a fag?" Hwoarang scoffed, knowing full well what the word around town would have been.

"Yeah. But it has been taken care of. He will think twice before bringing your name up in that way again. Jins name as well." Chang commented with a smile. "It may not be much retribution but respect is now maintained."

Hwoarang nodded. "Thank you, Chang." He lost the taste in his mouth. He had not been discreet enough, had not taken proper precautions to protect them both. But at least, Jin could rest his soul knowing their secrets had been saved. Respected.

Chang finished his beer and rose. "For what its worth, Seung Roh, I know somewhere inside you must have loved him."

Hwoarang had not heard his given name in so long it was nearly alien to him. Only two people had ever called him that, in private. Baek Do San and Chang. He could not help but give a soft snicker as the rest of the words caught up with him.

"I guess we will never know." He said, remaining seated even as Chang prepared to leave. "Come by tomorrow and show me the new lair. I am anxious to meet with the others."

"Will do. Rest well and rise to victory." Chang tossed the bottle in the trash and let himself out quietly.

Hwoarang sat for a long while before resigning himself to bathe and rest, his thoughts plagued with Jin as much as this tournament. When he was changed for the night and ready to rest, Changs words came to him.

The Blood Talon rose and opened the wardrobe, his fingers reaching out in the dark to touch the holy relic of two years passed. Jins jacket. He had left it that hasty afternoon when Saatchi and Han had surprised the two. Hwoarang never had the desire to rid himself of it. And now, it greeted his fingers, scented strong of his former lover mingled with the sweet smell of decay from the former place of refuge.

It was like touching a ghost. Hwoarang was so gentle with the quality material one might have thought he barely brushed the blackness of shadow and not the coat. He drank in the scent until he swore he could feel the moment Jins fingers first removed it from his own body. Flecks of the fine cable knit sweater Kazama had been wearing were set free by Hwoarangs fingers and the memory of that afternoon…of what had come over the Blood Talon…had changed everything.

_If only I could have let this shit go. Said fuck it to the whole idea of that first fight in the back alleys of Korea. If only I would have resigned myself to being his equal and not his superior, I might have been there…might have stopped him from dying. Or at least, been there in those last moments, said some things he should have heard. Well, Jin. I guess you finally beat me after all._

Hwoarang stood for long moments in the dark, brushing his fingers over the fabric before he forced himself to tear away. He drew into his new bed with a heavy sigh, forcing himself to shut down..to turn off the memories of his dead lover and former rival until darkness took him and rest came on swift, black wings.

After pacing in the small room for a long while, checking the window behind the curtain more times than he could count, Jin finally forced himself to undress, bathe and prepare to rest. Being back on Japanese soil made his blood heavy, made him constantly fear that Heihachi's men were coming for him.

…and Jins mind was once more wandering.

Hwoarang. It was a nightly ritual to think of the copper haired Korean. The fire in those sienna eyes, the timbre of that rough yet sensual voice, the faint recollection of the way his skin smelled…filled Jin with some of the only fond memories he kept to himself, silent and safe.

Their parting had been a bad one. The demon in his blood had taken hold. Before the darker side of his soul could make a false move, force the Blood Talon into a compromising position, Jin managed to make himself to walk out of the door…and walk away from Hwoarang forever. He never wanted Hwoarang to know of the weakness in his spirit, the curse he carried. With that knowledge could only come pain, the agony of placing Hwoarangs life in jeopardy.

There had been other factors that led to that break. Jin was falling in love with the Korean rogue. Hwoarang could not love him back, not the way he wanted. The Blood Talon knew only the notion of settling scores, of fighting till one was claimed victor..or one fell dead. It was like a sickness, a desire that consumed him till he could not trust himself when he was with the Korean youth. Hwoarang was dangerous, a beautiful detour on the road to what Jin would become.

And yet, every night, Jin fell into slumber recalling each contour of the Koreans' body…every soft word whispered in the heat of desire…the love he felt and the pain he succumbed to. Jin reasoned away his wanton need for the pain Hwoarang could give to him in the darkness of their lust. The pain both freed him and gave him something to hold onto, to feel alive and wrapped within Korean skin in a world where he was otherwise numb. It was symbolic of their joining and their rivalry. The pain fed the demon inside of him. He had wanted it with greed, as he had wanted Hwoarang. It was a lust he swore he would never know again but dreamed of each night.

And now, being back on Japanese soil made the recollections of Hwoarang all the more vivid, all the more powerful. It was almost too much agony to bear, a tightness in Jins gut and in his chest. His skin was sheeting over in a thin glistening sweat. Hwoarang was a poison that tasted like sugar. And it was a sudden fury that Jin could no longer fight as he gave himself to the vision of copper tendrils and the dark palette of the Blood Talons eyes.


	3. The Memory of Former Design

Chapter Two

The Memory of Former Design

Ling had come sometime before the fall of noon and set a picnic beneath a dense line of trees, beside the stream Jin loved. He had brought her here to the park just hours after Hwoarang and he had broken up. Jin had been distressed, out of sorts and in desperate need of some kind of grounding. Ling had done what she could, but he would not halt his pacing, his near tears…and the aura around Jin had been fractured, his Chi split in two…and it scared Ling…deeply. Shortly after that, Jin was gone for good and rumored to be dead.

"Is all of this for me?" came a voice as soft, serene as the surrounding woods.

Ling turned, drawing up to her knees, placing her hands on her hips. "Well, who else would it be for? Who knows when the last time you had something decent to eat was? Somebody has to look out for you."

Jin approved of Lings placement for the picnic. It was deep enough in the trees that he could feel safe, could give himself a moment of breath and distance from the paranoia that followed him. "Thank you, Ling." He said softly and drew down across from her, releasing the catch on his hood and slowly removing his jacket.

Ling could not believe how much Jin had changed in two years. Age was filling out his features, namely his face and never did she see the young Kazama look so dashingly handsome. But atop of his beautiful visage, there was worry lines, the heavy visual of dark circles rimming against his eyes as though he had not known a good restful sleep in all the time he had been away. Jins body was far more pronounced now, built in a strong V that showed every defined muscle, every perfect curve. Ling had never seen him so beautiful and yet, so tortured.

It was his eyes that caught her most of all. Jin looked separated from the world, lost and filled with an infinite sadness…a drowning black pool of emotion that could have broken Lings heart.

"Well, come on. Dig in." Ling said with a smile, pointing to the vegetarian sushi roll she prepared herself.

Jin crossed drew his legs Indian style and reached for a small paper plate. He filled it with several sushi rolls and fresh bread as Ling poured a glass of warm sake for both of them. He took a bite and smiled, feeling the seaweed and rice pop with flavor into his mouth. It had been so long since he had proper sushi.

Ling let Jin eat in silence, pleased when he asked if he could take a second portion which she was more than happy to see. He sipped the sake, kept at perfect temperature by a small battery operated warming plate beneath the ceramic decanter. When the two had sated themselves on quiet company and the small picnic, Ling sipped her sake and finally asked all the questions she ever wanted to know from Jin.

Ling learned the Japanese youth had been in Brisbane, Australia…had continued his training and managed a small apartment. Jin had made money by building websites under an assumed name, which he would not disclose. She was surprised to know that Jin never had the intentions of returning to Tokyo…but rather he wanted to save enough money to live quietly in Yakushima, where his mother was buried…and where his life prior had been lived. No matter how Ling pried, she could not get from the enigmatic Kazama the events that unfolded at the end of the previous King of Iron Fist Tournament.

"And what about Hwoarang?" Ling finally asked as Jin laid on his side on the blanket, sipping from his fourth shot of sake. "You realize he's probably back here in Tokyo, just like you?"

Jin literally froze. He did not blink or breath, even the wind itself seemed to halt with a fear of disturbing one cowlick lock that fell before Kazamas eyes. Why did Ling have to bring that name up? Hearing it spoken aloud made the Blood Talon real again, made him vital and undeniable. "I…I should go. I have stayed here too long."

Ling jolted as Jin began to raise to his knees, putting his jacket on with unbelievable speed. Her hand reached for his shoulder, her head tilting up to catch those horror filled, pain laden eyes. "No, Jin wait. Don't go. Please, I am sorry."

"I have been here long enough. It will be dark soon. Any number of people could have spotted me. I am putting us both in danger." Words said too quickly. True as they were, the string of it showed Jins need to escape.

"No one has seen us. No one has been through this part of the park. Jin, please. Don't run away. I am sorry I spoke of him. I don't mean to hurt you."

"No, Ling. It is alright. It is nothing you said." Jin tried his best to reassure. It really wasn't anything she said…it was the feelings that stirred in him at the moment she spoke. Jin needed to go, to flee…to run from the recollection of pain just as soon as he could. Every moment he lingered, he felt like he was going to break.

Ling Xiaoyu rose with him, grasping his shoulders. His hood was drawn up now, but she could still see his eyes, the deep, unyielding pain in his eyes. "I know you loved him, Jin. Its okay to love someone. Remember how I used to feel about you, how much I liked you in a way you didn't like me?" Her normally fiery voice was soft now, like a tree branch kissed by wind. "But I still love you, only differently now. Jin, please. Tell me what you are feeling."

Jin wanted to crumble, but he couldn't. He wanted to cry out his pain, scream to the sky with his agony…but he would not allow it. He had loved Hwoarang and it was not his feelings that were in question. The Blood Talon rejected him…brought him to a new height of his life, to an awakening..only to be tossed away. The Japanese youth never truly got over that sensation, the scars after two years were still too fresh. And now, with Lings words, the idea that Hwoarang was back on this soil was like a ghost becoming flesh and blood, right before his eyes.

"I am sorry, Ling. Thank you for lunch and thank you for listening. But I have to go…" Jin said in the most emotion he had displayed since returning to Lings life.

Ling kept Jin in place, knowing full well he would not be rude enough to remove her grasp. "Jin, where can I find you? When will I see you again."

Without even thinking, he replied. "The pier, tomorrow night."

Ling released her hold and Jin turned too quickly to leave, disappearing into the line of trees before she could even think to chase after him. Instead, the Chinese beauty stood with her hands on her hips, looking down from the blanket to the trail in the distance with a long sigh. _So much pain. So much memory. So much love._

Hwoarang. Why did that name strike him like a punch to the gut. Jin made his way to his rented room with a fury that forced a pace past haste. He was running from his memories, running from his world. Running from Hwoarang. No matter where he went, the Blood Talon was already there, already with him, mocking him…rejecting him.

Jin just wanted the pain to go away. Two years and it was as though every word of that fateful afternoon was handed down only yesterday. Two years filled with the all consuming passion to drive the Devil Within into a cage, to unlearn the art that became an instinct, to remold and rebuild himself into something and someone new. And even now, Hwoarang haunted him. The idea of coming across his former lover in the tournament made him nauseous. There would be no fondness to hold onto, only the cold reality of competitors standing in a ring. Every punch the Blood Talon would throw would be made of anger and bitterness, rejection and mockery….he would be left strong and Jin once more left weak.

The pain was building. The pressure in his shoulders became heavy, unbearable. He was coming. The Devil was making its way to the surface.

Jin stumbled into his room, slamming the door shut with a hard kick. He tore his jacket from his body, leaving it in a pool of material on the floor. Nails ripped into the bed as though each talon was sinking in to find an anchor.

"No!" the youth screamed through fanged canines. "No!"

The Blood Talon surveyed those assembled, appraisingly. Chang had built a nice retinue of new recruits. Hwoarang had to admit he was impressed, once more.

To show his prowess, the Blood Talon held a small, impromptu match. It was not unlike a lion atop a rock, roaring to hear his own echo, roaring to claim his domain.

One by one they fell beneath one spur or the other. It felt good to let the long forgotten boys out again, let them taste the cool rush of air as stances shifted, one kick led into a flurry of others and his opponents heaped before him on the floor. There would be no dispute as to who owned this proverbial rock, now or ever.

"I think the Military only made you more deadly." Chang half smiled, patting Hwoarang on his back, the white shirt clinging to Hwoarangs skin like plastic. "No more smart assing around, no more banter. Its like a more silent, more deadly Talon."

Hwoarang cracked his back, brushing his hand down his sweaty neck in a customary old habit. "Yeah, I do what I can." He snickered with a sharp exhale, walking off the aggression, letting it pass through him and out into the world. His own little violent gift returned to nature.

"Hey, you got a tattoo?" Saatchi asked, kicking up his feet onto a nearby chair in the newly broken in thieves den.

Hwoarang turned, looking over his shoulder as though he was stalking prey. His eyes narrowed till amber orbs held only one face. "Yeah. And lets leave it at that."

Chang noticed it to. Or at least, the outline of it from beneath the whet shirt that hugged the Blood Talons back. He could see, when Hwoarang moved that it was done in black ink, tribal style and situated directly between his shoulder blades. From what he could make of it, Chang thought he saw a single black feather.

Hwoarang ran his fingers through his coppery tendrils, brushing the locks out of his face. "What the fuck are you all waiting for. Class dismissed." He hissed and watched his street demons rush out and away from him, still not sure what to make of their returned leader. Saatchi and Chang were used to the roar but still loved to see how everyone else was brought to attention by such a quick wit.

"Hey, Saatchi. Since your sitting there wasting time, roll something up. Make yourself useful." The Blood Talon cracked his neck, taking up the towel he left on the floor and wiping himself down with it.

"You don't have to ask me twice." He laughed off the tension, eyeing Hwoarang from beneath his brows as he reached for the tray and the papers. Something inside of him seemed to get a thrill out of pushing the Blood Talons buttons, even if he would never dare to admit it aloud.

As Saatchi took up the task, Chang handed Hwoarang a clean shirt and a beer. The Blood Talon was careful to turn toward the other two as he changed before pulling the tab back on the imported beverage. He hated to admit it but he liked American Beer. An expensive habit in the old days. Money now was not so much of the object.

"I was thinking, maybe we could drum up some business down by the pier. Friday night and all." Chang smiled, taking a sip of his own drink. "We could book some of the rookies, get a birds eye view of how they are doing out there on their own. The tournament doesn't start for another few days, right?"

"Not till Monday, no. Nothing will be posted until then." Hwoarang said between thirsty gulps. "Its not like I have a fucking bed time." He snickered, pushing his shoulder against Chang.

Chang wasn't biting. He knew full well his old friend was trying to goad him into a spar. When Hwoarang was like this, it was the last advisable thing to partake in. "No, but I do. I think Saatchi is done."

"And I am about to be 'done'." Hwoarang laughed, taking up the first of the freshly rolled cylinders and cracking open his zippo. The first breath was like taking a draught of air after a coughing fit, it went really smooth down into the lungs. "Lets get a good head on before we hit the pier. Hell, everybody likes good head."

Chang laughed and waited till the Blood Talon took a second hit and handed off the joint. It was like the old days, outside of Do Sans dojang. The feeling in the aire was slowly starting to shift, easing down. He drew a heavy draught past his lips and fought a wracking cough, which elicited a snicker and a smack on Changs, curtsey of the Blood Talon.

"I said it before and I will say it again. Everybody likes good head."

Jin jolted, a sudden panic coming over his eyes. His knees were planted solemnly against the floor, his upper body spread out across the bed. All around him, a field of black feathers.

Slowly, the Japanese youth withdrew his fingers from the mattress, large gashes torn into the fabric where his talons had ripped deep, seeking an anchor to pause the transformation. It was obvious the change had occurred, though what he had done in that time, he could not recall.

Going to the curtain on shaking legs, Jin withdrew it slowly to see the sky was darkening. A full day had passed, a measure of time gone, lost to him and gained to the demon. It had been sometime since last the beast had truly made itself known and the same feeling, the drained…torn, frightened feeling lingered within Jin.

This time it had been Hwoarang that trigged the change over. The simple and easy way Ling had brought up the Blood Talon and the realization the Korean might well have returned for the next installment of the tournament had left an indelible mark on the Japanese youth; torn into his gut like a blood thirsty sword.

Jin undressed slowly, rubbing his shoulders once his bare flesh was free of constriction. Dried blood against his shirt. Another undeniable proof his wings had come through the skin. Black feathers stuck to the material like a lovers hands, making the Japanese youth suddenly sick to his stomach. Jin was left now with the ache…dull and yet crisp, a tingling sensation that all was not what it appeared to be.

Forcing himself to bathe, Jin shuddered when the hot water poured down his back. Settling his head against the shower wall, he tried to breath in the steam, to cleanse himself of this wicked sensation. He could not dwell on this, could not allow himself to fall into the chasm of his dark thoughts and fears. Ling would be a most welcomed sight to take his mind off of this, as much as he did not wish to be in public or see anyone right now. Jin knew that if he continued to pace lines into the cheap rugs of his room, he would only descend further into madness.

Hwoarang paced along the alley alcove as Saatchi fetched three orders of sesame noodles. "So, now we watch our soldiers from a distance and see what business they drum up. This was a good plan…if not boring as shit."

"One of us has to be sober and ready to come to defense if shit gets out of hand, play the ringer. And that is not you, tonight." Chang laughed, pushing Hwoarangs shoulder playfully.

"I have been up to my ass in military for two years. I deserve a little R and R." The Blood Talon snickered, pushing Chang back with that dark smile over his lips.

"Nice choice of words there." Chang laughed, his spirits elevated. It was nice to have Hwoarang back, to have the vibe the Blood Talon brought with him, refreshing and exuberant if not also dark and sometimes too hasty.

"Fuck, I got a better idea. Lets start ourselves a little tiff. Get Saatchi to take some bets…show our newbies how to handle the streets, old school."

Normally, Chang would have fought against it, knowing Hwoarang had smoked enough to tranquilize a horse. But tonight, with the right feeling in the air, Chang gave that wry smile. He trusted the Blood Talon, with his life.

"Fuck, why not?" He laughed and leaned in to push the gang leader forward a little harder than before.

"Its on!" Hwoarang cracked his neck and started to circle his compatriot. _Damn, its good to be home._

Ling drew the chopsticks against her lips filled with some spicy steamed vegetables as they walked, not minding how quiet Jin had become during their visit. She had enough to fill him in on to make up for two years of absence. She prattled on and on between bites, digging her chopsticks back into the white container.

Jin had opted against having something to eat. His stomach was still reeling from earlier in the evening. If he grew hungry, he would pause to bring something back to the motel room but for the moment he was contented to offer a nod here and there as Ling relayed to him all that had happened to her since his hasty departure.

The Japanese youth still felt uncomfortable out in public and the streets were teeming with youth run wild on a Friday night. He kept his hood up to conceal his identity, often looking to and fro to be sure none were following the duo or staring just a fraction of a second to long.

"…so then, I told Julia in the email she was crazy. I mean, come on, that guy was total bad news. And let me tell you, " She paused to press spicy snapped, shelled peas between her lips before continuing. "it was the best thing I could have said. This guy had been around the block so much he could have been a road sign!"

Jin half smiled, recalling Julia and her normally calm nature, a complete opposite of the night when she and Hwoarang had come together in the club. That infamous night the Blood Talon kissed him….

Jin felt somberness threaten to overtake him with that simple yet powerful memory. It was the night he first tasted flesh, desire and his own awakening beneath a hot Korean mouth. Now, looking back on the evening and the conversation that took place back after some heavy sexual desire back in Hwoarangs hotel room, Jin knew he should have seen this broken heart coming.

Ling had paused and Jin was now paces ahead of her, wandering through his own, quiet memories. He quickly turned, keeping his head down. "I am sorry, Ling. I was lost in thought and in your story. Please, continue…"

The Chinese beauty was frozen, stone still, her body facing toward Kazama even though her head was turned, cheeks filled with food yet unchewed.

"Ling?" Jin questioned as he drew closer to his friend, his hands pressed into the pockets of his jacket. "Ling?" He asked again, more seriously this time. She did not even turn her head to acknowledge.

Jin tilted his head down, keeping his face covered by the hood as he followed the path of her eyes. His heart stopped. His body stiffened. His blood froze.

"He…is here." Ling said softly enough that Jin could barely hear her.

The Blood Talon was in the middle of a street fight, moving like an agile cat against his adversary. A throng of on lookers were gathered by the dingy downtown alley as the Korean circled, whirling into a stance the Japanese knew all too well, followed by a flurry of kicks that were poorly blocked.

Jin felt his jaw slacken in shock and disbelief, his body suddenly feeling clammy and slick beneath his heavy jacket. He could not muster words, could not gather the muscles needed to move his lips.

Hwoarang looked…better than Jin could ever recall. His hair was shorter, gracing the edge of the Blood Talons chin, still a brash copper and held back by those obscene orange goggles. His body was slick with sweat, moving with predatory almost feline grace. That rude and dark smile plastered across familiar lips made Jin want to run…but he could not muster the strength to move. _Two years…two years…._

"Jin." Ling said, placing a hand on his arm protectively. "Jin, come on, lets go…"

Hwoarang came out of his stance and began to circle Chang as Saatchi worked the crowd. The fight had been going on for sometime now and it felt invigorating to his body as well as his spirit. Cocking his head down as he moved, the Blood Talon gave a wicked smile and launched into a flurry of kicks, hitting high middle low…making Chang fall back to the jostle of the crowd.

A sensation unlike everything he had ever known shot up his back, making his stance falter for a moment. Hwoarang quickly snapped out of it as Saatchi gave the sign all the money had been collected, shaking his head and pressing into a Hunting Hawk to finish the preplanned scuffle.

Chang fell back, holding his hands up to signify the fight was over. Money exchanged hands and the Blood Talon walked away, taking his pack of smokes out from his overly tight denim pocket, tapping one cylinder out of the throng and lighting it up.

The feeling up his back was like hot lava, forcing Hwoarang to crack his neck to try to rid himself of the unwanted sensation. Drawing in a heavy breath of smoke, he coughed slightly from previous exertions and wiped a hand across his sweating brow. That's when he saw the apparition. A ghost of flesh and blood, standing on the opposite street, unmoving.

Lips agape, Hwoarang held his cigarette between nearly lax fingers, eyes holding that image straight ahead of him…eyes he knew…half hidden face he recalled. The Blood Talons body was like a magnet picking up steel and just as tense. "Kazama." He breathed like a hiss, eyes widening all the more for the name that escaped his lips. "Kazama."

Ling was only a momentary fleeting orb in his line of sight. He knew that body, those eyes that met the familiar gaze across the way. He knew the feeling that ebbed in his gut now, unsure of just how he knew it so certainly but it was not the time to question it. Jin…Kazama…was alive. _It cant be so…it cant be him. I felt him pass…I felt his spirit leave this place….._

Jin turned to leave, dragged by the arm by Ling Xiaoyu though the apparitions eyes never left the Blood Talon. A rage of adrenaline pumped through his tired body, overcome with too many emotions, thoughts to count. For a long moment Hwoarang stood stone still, unable to move his thrumming legs, overtaken with the sight of Jin…walking away.

…walking away.

Hwoarang tossed his cigarette onto the street and took off at such a pace a passerby would have thought a starting pistol for a race had gone off. He crossed in front of on coming traffic with little care for his own health and safety. If it took his last breath, he had to know the specter was real, had to know it was…who he thought it was.

"Jin!" He shouted loud enough to startle those who were unfortunate enough to cross his path as the duo made its way toward an easy escape, an alleyway, the shelter of two close buildings. Jin was not going to disappear in the dark, not if Hwoarang could help it.

The sound of his spurrs clinked against concrete as Hwoarang ran at a pace to catch up. "Fucking wait!" He hissed gaining on the two who evaded him.

Jin felt a panic in his blood making him want to flee all the faster. Ling half pushed the Japanese youth into the alley as the pursuer caught up with them at a rapid pace. "Go ahead, I will take care of this!" She shouted as Jin moved into the confines of the alley like a beaten dog, his shoulder clinging to the filthy walls as he moved. He felt powerless, trapped…entranced.

"Fuck!" Came that rough, guttural English tinged with a hard Korean accent. Hwoarang held onto his upper thighs, trying to recapture stolen breath.

Ling was awaiting the Blood Talon, one leg planted firmly, the other prepared to strike to protect Jin if necessary. "What are you doing here, Hwoarang?" she asked in a none to hasty breath. The white container holding her dinner was long gone now, dropped on the floor in hasty preparation to leave the main streets of downtown Tokyo.

Hwoarang drew up to full stance, looking hard into Lings eyes. "What the fuck do you think I am doing here? For Christ sake, Ling. Come on."

Ling pursed her lips. "Oh, no. Don't even think about it!"

"Thought about it? Why would I have crossed the fucking street to just think about it!" Hwoarang hissed, looking into the alley. "I know you're here, Kazama. Come out of there or I am going through her to get to you, I fucking swear it!"

Jin had not made it far into the alley. He found his legs could not move, his body refusing to respond to his need to flee. He pleaded with himself until pleading was useless. The Japanese youth heard that voice, like the warm fingers of a lover along his spine and he was entranced…and agonized.

"Do you hear me, Kazama? I will go through her to get to you. You don't want that…you fucking know you don't want that!" Hwoarang shouted with a feral power behind his voice.

"Your not getting through me, Hwoarang." Ling stood in fevering protest, dropping down into a ready stance. She would do whatever was necessary to protect Jin from this beast.

"The fuck if I wont. You will not keep him from me." Hwoarang hissed, falling into an easy fighting stance before that alleyway and the opponent who prevented him from getting to Jin.

"No. Stop." Jin said in a voice so painful it shot a shiver up Lings spine. Slowly, the Japanese youth came into the expanse of the scant street light in the alcove of the alley, his hood drawn low before his eyes. "I will not have anyone hurt."

Hwoarang could barely breath. It was Jin. Flesh and Blood. Two years of torment and Jin was alive and only a few feet away from him. Kazamas voice was deep, anguished, his body rigid as he moved into what available light was offered.

"It is you." The Blood Talon hissed a breath, dropping his stance as Ling drew up and before Jin, protectively. Hwoarang felt completely exposed to disbelief, to bittersweet realizations.

"It is." Jin said with a distant voice, turning his eyes up to finally hold the Blood Talons form, meet that burning amber gaze. "I am here."

"Jin, you don't have to do this." Ling warned, looking from the hooded figure to the hasty Korean.

"Now or later, it would still have to be done." Jin said softly, laying his hand across Lings shoulder, thankful for her strength in this moment of his own weakness. Hwoarang was as toxic as he was sugary to Jins senses…two years of recalling every moment together, two years of remembering every elicit touch, every wanton need. It was almost unbearable and the source of every previous sensation was staring him down with disbelieving and questioning eyes.


	4. The Will of the Sword Maker

Chapter Three

The Will of the Sword Maker

Hwoarang was moving closer to the line of the alley, closer to Jin. Ling narrowed her eyes and looked between the two, still refusing to let the Blood Talon find a straight path. "How are you here?" the Korean hissed with a deadly tone, his eyes narrowed as he watched the Japanese youth.

"It does not matter how I am here. You have seen me now. You know that I am no ghost. Return to your friends and haunt me no more." Jin said with such a cool, even tone, it barely sounded like him. He had to mask the pain, the stabbing anguish in his body. Jin would not allow Hwoarang to see just how torn apart he was, inside.

Jin turned then, removing his hand from Lings shoulder and walked deeper into the alley, closing his eyes as his pace brought him further from Hwoarang. Every beat of his heart pumped desire and longing until in the darkness, Jin reached out to touch the warm, dingy alley wall. He let his head fall forward as he took a deep breath, safe in the shadows and out of the line of sight. Dying a second time could not be as painful…as this.

"Haven't you done enough to him already, Hwoarang?" Ling asked, shaking her head as she watched the Blood Talon stare deep into the alley.

"Who the fuck are you to judge me, midget?" The Blood Talon growled. "Its none of your business so keep the fuck out of it."

"Its my business alright. Unlike one of us, I love Jin and do whatever I can to keep him safe and away from you." Ling narrowed her eyes, silently challenging Hwoarang.

"Your just happy to no longer be second best, bitch." The Korean hissed. "You want to keep him close, fulfill some sick fantasy that he is yours, that maybe he will break down and fuck you like you want him to. I know you still have the hots for what I had…"

…_for what I had. _

That idea, that sentiment was in no way acceptable.

Ling was opening her mouth to speak, her features flushed with anger, when Hwoarang pushed past the Chinese beauty. He entered the alleyway even as Ling followed a pace behind.

"Stay the fuck away from me." Hwoarang whirled around. "Jin is a big boy, he can take care of himself. Your not his mother and your not his girl."

Ling stopped moving as Hwoarang turned to face her. The Blood Talon was right. As much as she wanted to protect Jin, he had lived for two years on his own, had defeated Toshin and disappeared. It was stupid to think this moment would not come, that the two rivals turned lovers would not have the chance to say what they needed. Jin was in pain because he was still in love…and that pain was something Ling could never take away from him. Maybe somewhere in the Koreans cutting words, there was truth.

Seeing his point won, Hwoarang walked down the long alley, the only available light coming from the reflected halogen headlights of the cars that flew down the Tokyo street, casting their filthy whet illuminations on the narrow walls. His spurrs reverberated on the concrete as he let his instincts guide him. _He is still here. I can feel him…_

"Stand back from me." Jin hissed as he felt Hwoarang drawing closer, the sound of the Koreans spurrs heralding him like a clarion call. "There is nothing more to say between us."

"If that is true, why did you stay in here instead of hightailing it to the other side?" The Blood Talon half smiled, hiding his own fears with perfectly placed arrogance. "I think there is plenty more to say."

A spark of red lightning forked around Jins arms, turning the alley into a luminescent bulb with the deadly flicker and the familiar scent of ozone. The Japanese youth felt the emotions run too high, the sweet agony of the moment causing his Fatal Lightning to swirl…and that tell tale ache in his back above each shoulder blade, slowly become a roar.

"Nice fireworks display." Hwoarang said, drawn to the lightning like a moth to a flame. He could see the line of Jins jaw, colored with the flickering red. "But you know I don't scare off that easy."

Jin closed his eyes, begging himself to run, pleading with the spirit within him to calm and quiet. He could see Hwoarangs boots, the click of spurrs coming to a stop…in front of him. This was the closest the Japanese had been to the Blood Talon…the closest he had been to all of his fears, all of his raw emotion since that fateful afternoon the two went separate ways.

"You didn't answer my question. Why are you still here?" Hwoarang was standing before Jin now, his hands shaking with desire to reach out and reclaim what was his.

"Because…you are here." Jin said with anguish, his eyes turning upward as the crimson electricity pooled around his hands and forearms. He met the sienna gaze that haunted him, filled him with anger and desire. Those eyes Jin had memorized and replayed each night beneath the cover of darkness, a memory, looking back at him now.

"That's right, Jin. I am here…and I am not leaving." Hwoarang said with a cool smile. He reached up, grasping Jins jacket with both of his hands, pulling the Japanese beauty out of his stone stance.

Jin pushed Hwoarang back, forcing the grip of one hand to break itself free from him. "Stand back from me!" He growled as one lightning swirled hand grasped the Blood Talons grip.

The electric touch stung, making Hwoarang wince but he refused to remove his grip. His now free hand reached up, even as Jin blocked it. The Blood Talon would not be stopped and once more made a fast grab, this time pulling that damn hood down to see Jins face, his eyes. "I will not."

Jin shifted back, ready to run, dragging Hwoarang with him, pressing his nails into the Koreans wrist as the lightning forked between the two. Hwoarang used the short move to his advantage and pressed Jin back against the wall, blocking in Kazamas legs with his own.

"Release me!" The growl came from somewhere inside of him even as Hwoarang pressed him back, one hand snaking up behind Jins neck. How could he be so powerless to fight. How could his strength fail him?

"I will baby…I will release you." Hwoarang said with a dangerous tone as his mouth descended, even as Jin tried to turn his head. The Blood Talons grip to the back of Jins neck forced his prey to return to the position he was put in.

Jins body betrayed him, the lightning dying down the moment those familiar lips pressed against his. His mouth parted, eyes closing…an anguished sigh leaving him when he felt that hot, slick tongue brush against his own. Jin wanted to scream, and even in such a perfect moment, he struggled, breaking the kiss….that toxic, sugary kiss.

"Stop it, Jin." Hwoarang held those dark chocolate eyes. "Stop trying to push me back."

"Get off of me." the tormented Japanese beauty hissed but there was no real power behind his words. His body was shaking, his lips aching and thirsty as though he had survived a drought, forgotten the taste of that mouth…until now.

"I wont." The Korean cooed, holding Jins eyes as tight as he held that body between his own and the wall.

"Get off of me!" Jin said once more, this time he thrust Hwoarang back, hearing the thud of flesh against the opposite alley wall.

Hwoarang braced the impact, letting a groan leave his lips. Jin was stronger now than he recalled. Before the Korean could say another word, Kazama was against him, pushing him back into the wall, enforcing a position Jin had been trapped in a moment before. The sensation caught Hwoarang by surprise and he gripped the jacket that pressed against him, even as Jin trapped his legs in.

Jins hands encircled the Blood Talons wrists, keeping them entwined in the grip of his jacket. His lips descended, stifling anything the Korean might think to say…

Hwoarang parted his lips, breathing Jin deep into his body, feeling that warm, slick appendage entwine with his own in a familiar dance. Kazamas kiss was angry, lustful and for the first time that the Korean could recall, dominant.

Jin let himself indulge the sinful font of those lips, his eyes shut tightly as his mouth drank in the toxic taste that would undoubtedly damn his soul. Again.

The Blood Talon felt Jins grip loosen, drank in the soft moan that pressed from Jins breath. He kicked off the wall, pushing their tightly pressed bodies back to the opposite side of the alley. Jin did not fight this time, his hands releasing Hwoarangs wrists as the Blood Talon covered him over, continuing the kiss as though it would be the only salvation his fiery spirit would ever taste, turning his head to the side to force Jin to open more to him. The Blood Talon moaned as Jin rose to meet his desire, his own head tilting slightly to give as much as it received. A kiss built on fire, passion… two years in the making.

Hwoarang finally broke from Jins mouth, gasping breath as he pressed against the Japanese beauty's body. His chest was panting at the same rhythm as Jins till all that could be heard in the alley, was their ragged breath.

"Fuck Jin…you taste good." The Korean groaned, taking a gentle hold of Kazamas face, till their foreheads were pressed together, eyes connected as intimately as their bodies.

Jin could not muster the words to speak, his breath ragged and intermingling with Hwoarangs. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream…he wanted to run away and yet, he wanted none of these things. Two years of agony was staring him down. He parted his lips once more, giving Hwoarang the only permission he would need to delve headlong into the open, eager mouth that awaited his.

Ling could hear the echo of the exchange between the two former rivals, former lovers. The fork of fatal lightning drew her eyes, made her anxious as the sudden sound of motion, a scuffle caught her off guard. And then there was silence…a long silence with nothing but the echo of breath.

"Jin? Jin are you alright?" she asked, nervously. "Hwoarang? Anybody?"

No response. Ling bit at the edge of her lip, pondering what to do. What if something had happened? Hastily, Ling reached into her purse and withdrew her keys where a small flashlight was dangling from the ring. She moved forward, fumbling with it, smacking it repeatedly to get the old battery working. "Come on guys, are you both alive in there?"

The battery finally clicked into the right position and shone a small light against the alley. "Oh!" Ling said, one hand coming up to cover over her lips as the sight unfolded. Hwoarang had Jin pressed quite willingly against the alley wall, their bodies entwined like two snakes as the twining of tongues between parted lips forked and rolled in an intimate dance. It was the last sight Ling Xiaoyu had ever thought she would see…and yet, the desperation of their heavy kiss was as deep as the filth of the alley. It was as though neither one of them could breath before this moment….

"Um, so much for all that posturing huh?" Ling said, still standing a few respectful feet away from the deliciously hot sight. She felt wicked thinking that way, but something about the heat between them made her own lips go dry.

No reply. The two continued without so much as a breath of recognition and Ling giggled when she saw Hwoarangs hand move between two pressed bodies, open palm toward Jin Kazamas….

"Alright, already! Hey, you two, break it up! Come on, don't make me get a hose on you like two mating dogs." Ling put one hand on her hip. "You are in an alley for gods sake! Jin! Hwoarang!"

That finally got some level of recognition. Ling watched as those two slick tongues untwined, their bodies separating slowly as panting breath mingled between them. Hwoarang turned his eyes toward the small but obnoxious light, his lips red and kiss swollen. "Like we don't fucking know we are in an alley?" He laughed.

Jin felt a flush of embarrassment at realizing the display…at realizing how he needed that sugary toxic mouth to feel alive, to make the demon within return to his cage. Now, things were uncertain…the pain only slightly alleviated. But he refused to give in to the questioning thoughts rising up his throat. Instead, Jin gave a wry smile toward Ling as Hwoarang lit up a cigarette. "At the moment, I don't know where I am…or for that matter, who I am."

Ling laughed and shook her head. "Well, Jin. Did you work up an appetite yet? We have to get something in you…."

Hwoarang snickered. "Don't worry, I got that department covered."

Jin and Ling waited at the address given to them, the Yurei district. Jin paced in the cover of darkness, the hood once more drawn up to cover his features.

"So, do you want to break the silence about all of this? I mean, I mentioned his name the other day and you nearly ran off to avoid the topic. Then, all of a sudden there you both were lip locked like the world might end." Ling said, sitting on a mossy covered rock, watching Jin pace continually. "Was it as hot as it looked?"

Jin snickered at that last bit. _Yeah, it was better than I remember. _

As for the rest, he knew this question was coming and in truth he did not have an answer for Ling, let alone himself. Jin looked up at the desolate apartment building, half abandoned and apart from the rest of the world. "I am not sure what I am doing here or why I agreed to meet him."

"Could it be, well I don't know, because you love him?" Ling said with that hint of innocent sarcasm.

Those words were like a knife in his heart. A truthful blade slung with deadly accuracy. "I don't think I ever stopped loving him, Ling. I told myself I had…and therein lies the problem. I cant love him….loving him puts him in danger."

"You mean, puts you in danger." Ling said, calculatingly. "Alright, I understand you are on the lamb from Heihachi but you keep using the word danger to keep yourself away from everyone. What kind of danger are we talking about Jin? The danger of getting your heart smashed or the danger of what Heihachi will do when he finds out you are back for the tournament?"

"You don't know what he did to me!" Jin said, raising his voice uncharacteristically. _Who did he mean, Heihachi or Hwoarang. Coming here is a bad idea. I should go..before I get in over my head._

"No, Jin, I don't. And that is because as much as I have asked you since your midnight visit to my bedroom, you wont tell me!" Ling came to a stand, her voice raising as well.

The sound of Hwoarangs bike coming up the gravel roadway drew Jins eyes. There was no going back now, no escape. Hwoarang was here and so was he.

"Once again, a perfectly timed interruption." Ling said with a huff as the obnoxiously loud bike and rider pulled up. He revved the engine like a show off and turned the key to kill the ignition.

"Well, next time I should say to come alone." Hwoarang smiled arrogantly, not expecting Ling to still be at Jins side. The twosome just turned into a threesome and not in a good way.

"I can go." She said with attitude, her chin up in defiance.

"No, Ling. You do not have to go." Jin said as Hwoarang drew off of the bike, holding the Blood Talons eyes. "If you ask her to leave, I will leave with her. It is your home, your rules but I will not abandon my friend."

Hwoarang shrugged his shoulders. It might have hurt to give a little, but he could make an exception, this once. "Nah, its cool. Don't have much in the place, some left overs if any one is hungry."

The Blood Talon walked into the building, holding the door as Ling entered behind him. They followed him up five flights of stairs to the only apartment door on the floor.

Following the Korean inside, Ling was surprised to see the place so clean. Everything was in order and it even smelled nice, like oranges. Probably the cleaning solution used on this place. "Like I said, its not much. Only got here a short time ago but I did clean it up. Damn Military training."

Jin closed and locked the door as Hwoarang withdrew three long neck bottles of beer from the refrigerator. He tossed his keys onto the counter to give his other hand some use. "When were you in the Military?"

Hwoarang kicked off his boots and the others followed suit, not wishing to disrespect the Blood Talons home. "Been locked away for two years serving my country. Never wondered why I didn't beat the shit out of Paul Pheonix and take that plane trip to South America? Fuckers even made me cut my hair."

Jin had thought about it but figured Hwoarang was going to lengths to avoid him. Now that Jin could see the Korean more clearly, he could judge the difference in that familiar body. Hwoarang had grown more muscular and well toned, his posture straight with something more than pure arrogance. His face had matured as well, smoother and more angular, framed beneath shorter copper hair and black roots.

"You and the military. That's almost as funny a picture as imagining you at a church. Oil and water." Ling said, taking one of the beers Hwoarang held and bounding into the living room, plopping down on the leather couch.

"Fuck you. But only because your right." Hwoarang laughed as Ling inspected the area. Jin followed into the main room like a shadow, moving toward the windows and withdrawing the curtain to peer out at his surroundings in an almost paranoid fashion.

"Oh, you have a Sony game system! I haven't played one of these since I was dorming at the university. Got any good games?" Ling smiled, rising from the couch and rushing toward the hutch with her beer in hand.

"Haven't had a chance to break it in yet. There's some fighting games a couple from the same series, fucked up storyline though. Trust me." Hwoarang chuckled, watching Jin. "Hey, no body is coming here, only Chang knows the address cause he set the place up for me. Sit down and have a drink."

Jin hesitantly moved away from the window and unzipped his jacket, removing it as slowly as a snake stripping out of an old skin. Beneath the obnoxious colorful leather he wore a tee shirt that hugged his perfect form. "Damn, you look good." He heard Hwoarang say and he reached over to accept the offered bottle. "Never understood why you wont eat meat but you wear leather."

Jin had definitely been working out. His body was much more lithe than the Blood Talon recalled but no less massive and toned. Jin just looked different, as though he had been exercising muscles that he had not before. His hair was longer now, a little more unkempt but still swept into an undying style, longer cowlicks licking against his features.

"Thank you." Jin said, folding one leg under his body as he sat on the leather couch. "I guess because I still wear leather because it is durable, warm against the skin. If I could find something equivalent and organic, I would wear that instead."

"Nothing more organic than cow." Hwoarang teased, taking a pull from his beer.

Ling was fumbling with the remote for the TV, removing whatever games had been stacked there as she sipped her beer. "We are not here 10 minutes and already the questioning starts." She laughed sardonically, trying to find a title that pleased her as she leaned over, her skirt riding up against her thighs.

Hwoarang laughed. "Hey, pull that shit down, I can see what you ate for dinner for Christ sake."

Ling looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. "You wouldn't know fashion if it bit you in the ass."

"I don't have to know fashion when I see enough ass coming from my floor…and not the one I intend on seeing more of." Hwoarang smiled arrogantly even as Jin flushed.

Kazama shifted as a smile broke over his lips, letting the bottle dangle between his thighs while his elbows rested on his knees.

"You are so gross!" Ling laughed and folded her legs beneath her, crossed at the ankles, smoothing her skirt down. "Well, maybe not gross but you know. Well, never mind!" she flushed and busied herself with finding a suitable game to occupy her.

Hwoarang reached into the table beside the couch, withdrawing a small plate and strainer, a coarse brown paper and a bag of what Jin recognized instantly as marijuana. _Some habits never die, _he thought to himself and took a pull from his bottle.

"So, the Military let you out then?" Jin finally broke the silence as Hwoarang ran the small brick of herb over the strainer, breaking it into fine granules onto the plate nestled between crossed legs.

"Well, they didn't really have a choice. I caught wind of this tournament and figured I served them long enough. I am not the taking orders kind of guy." Hwoarang said, tapping the strainer filled with small seeds and setting it aside.

"You went AWOL?" Ling said, dropping down to her backside on the floor. "Oh, that is not good."

"Damn straight I went AWOL. I needed to be here, get with my gang and find out what the hell happened at the last tournament." Hwoarang scooped up some of the herb into a brown paper, rolling it slowly and tightly. He looked up at Jin through copper tendrils. "So, what did happen."

Jin looked down. He could feel both sets of eyes on him even as he heard the familiar click of the lighter and the sweet instant smell of the fresh herbal cigarette…blunt, as he heard it called, fill the air. It was cloy and reminded him of Hwoarang, from that very first night the two had come together in the hotel room he had sought refuge within, two years ago. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Who gives a fuck if you want to talk about it. Drop the cloak and dagger shit." Hwoarang said bluntly, drawing in a hit from the cigarette clutched between two fingers. "Hey, Ling, you want a hit?" He exhaled, half rising to pass it off.

"Yeah!" She said, shifting position to her knees to take the offer.

"Ling!" Jin said, thankful for the distraction.

"Jin, I have been at University for a full year. You think I haven't had some fun? Besides, its harmless, well not to the figure really cause those munchies get a hold of you and you just cant stop eating. But really, Jin. Its natural, better for you than beer or anything else in the drug category."

Jin shook his head and could not watch Ling take a hit from the blunt. She was her own woman, yes, but he forever saw her as the obnoxious kid sister he felt a need to protect.

Hwoarang stood up and reclaimed the blunt from Ling, snickering as he watched her cough and lick her lips. "Good shit. Chang knows how to take care of me." He laughed, taking a hit and drawing it deep into his lungs, holding his breath back as he drew toward Jin.

"Open your lips for me, Kazama. I promise not to bite." He said with half muffled words, refusing to let the smoke out of his body.

"I really shouldn't." Jin said, leaning back onto the couch as Hwoarang stood between his legs and slowly leaned down, bracing hands on either side of the his thighs.

"Yeah, you really should." He smiled, lowering his mouth to Jins, watching how those petal perfect lips parted in anticipation. A column of cloy smoke drifted from Hwoarangs mouth and Jin instinctively sucked in the white tendrils, feeling his lungs expand. This time he did not cough, holding the heady smoke in his lungs as Hwoarangs warm, slick tongue found his own.

"Oh no, not again!" Ling said with a slight giggle. She raised her fingers to her lips. "Hey, come on, your messing up the rotation!"

Hwoarang lingered there till Jin swore his lungs would burst, hesitant as he was to break off from that enticing mouth. He drew his lips away and released the smoke, clearing his throat as Hwoarang drew up and took another hit for himself before passing it to Ling.

"Hey, midget, don't start being a pain in the ass." Hwoarang leaned down on his haunches next to Ling but not before grasping up his beer and taking a heavy sip to cure the dryness in his throat.

"Midget." Ling mimicked as smoke billowed from her lips. "Maybe your just abnormally tall or just plain abnormal."

"Now, that's the smartest thing you've said yet." Hwoarang let Ling take another hit before reclaiming the blunt, tapping off the edges into his ashtray before walking it back toward Jin.

Jin did not protest, taking a hit and feeling the smoke dry out his throat. He felt released, calm and easy for the first time in a long time. Hwoarangs plan had worked.

"So," The Blood Talon stood, taking a sip of his beer. "what happened at the tournament?"


	5. Even Metal has a Soul

Chapter Four

Even Metal has a Soul

Jin reached for the second long neck bottle that appeared out of no where. He did not recall seeing anyone fetch it from the kitchen but surely enough it was near to his hand. "…Paul knocked me out. He don't know how he did it, but the last thing I remember was seeing stars. It felt like a rock to the back of the neck but I guess I will never know."

"Cheap son of a bitch." Hwoarang snickered taking another hit from the herb and passing it to Ling who was now on her knees on the floor beside the Blood Talons legs. She was swaying slightly as she listened to Jin unveiling his secrets at last.

"Americans are so rude and obnoxious." She said as Hwoarang handed down the diminishing blunt.

Jin was leaning forward once more, gripping the beer that dangled between his thighs. He watched the two through ebony tendrils that fell over his eyes. "When I came to I heard the sound of fighting, it echoed through the temple walls, holding the energy like only stone can do. I got to my feet and shook the cobwebs from my thoughts. I ran toward the sounds, using the stone as my guide. In large chamber, Paul was laying on the floor before Toshin…but the form of Toshin was changed, it looked like an ogre…"

Jin continued. "…We battled till my muscles screamed and my blood pumped acid. I felt the nearness of my mothers soul and some of the moves the creature used where moves only she and I knew because she taught them to me at our home in Yakushima. That gave me the drive I needed to defeat this thing. And finally, bleeding and limping, I defeated Toshin and I swore I saw my mothers spirit unshackle itself from that disgusting creature. I felt her all around me, warm memories of her love filled me. The creature turned to dust and blew off into the hot South American winds…."

"…and that is when it happened." Jin ran a free hand through his hair, sighing. "I heard footsteps behind me and I turned around. It was Heihachi with a host of his special forces…and he was holding a gun. His words were cold and I felt panic rush through me….and the last thing I heard was the release of the trigger and the gunshot passing through me."

"Holy shit." Hwoarang said, his eyes wide. That was what he heard. That was the moment he felt Jin die…but it was apparent now those must have been phantom feelings from an overtired mind. "How the fuck did you survive that?"

Jin hesitated. "I thought I didn't…but obviously, I did." the Japanese youth wasn't saying another word on that topic. He was supposed to be dead but instead, the Devil Within made itself known. Jin had transformed, black markings etching down his body, an eye opening from the center of his forehead like a glittering ruby as ebon feathers broke through his skin to form two, enormous wings. Devil Jin came after Heihachi, knocking the Elder Mishima out of the temple window, flying off into the night only to land in Australia where he remained for two long years.

"I heard Heihachi took a swan dive out of the window. Nice move." Hwoarang said. "But how did you end up in Australia?"

"I don't really remember a lot after that. I think I was just flying on auto pilot." Jin said, a double entandre behind his words. "I guess I blocked it out. Either way, that is where I stayed for two years until I found out about this tournament. Heihachi can not be allowed to live…" The Japanese youth said with a dark and serious inflection in his voice.

"You cant mean you are going to kill him! Jin, that's murder! Cold blooded, premeditated murder!" Ling exclaimed, taking a sip of her beer after handing the blunt back to Hwoarang. "You have to go to the police with this, he tried to kill you. You cant take mean to do what you are intending to do…that would make you no better than him!"

"He killed my father…was probably somehow involved in my mothers death and his attempt to plant me in the ground, can not go unpunished. I have to wipe away this horror…." Jin said, determined, falling back against the couch, looking exhausted but relaxed.

"But what I don't understand is WHY he tried to kill you. It doesn't make sense. He gains nothing by destroying you, I mean hell, you killed Toshin. If anything he would want you on his side, you know?" Hwoarang wasn't biting. Something important was missing from this tall tale but Jin wasn't giving it up.

"I don't know why either, Hwoarang." That was the first time in his life that Jin had ever lied. And somehow, the Japanese youth knew as uncomfortable as it was, it would probably not be the last time, either.

Ling was curled up on the floor, her cheek resting against her forearm. The sun would be coming up soon, the night had whittled away from black to gray. "We should probably move her to the couch or she is going to have a stiff back. Hell, I don't want to hear her bitching about it when she wakes up." Hwoarang snickered, walking into the bedroom and grasping a pillow and small coverlet that was draped over the edge of his bed.

"I didn't mean for us to stay so long. I can wake Ling and let you get some sleep." Jin said softly, coming to a stand, reaching for his jacket as Hwoarang returned. His head was still foggy, having sat for too long after smoking the second herbal cigarette the Blood Talon had rolled up. His belly was full with beer and his senses slightly swimming as he stumbled, nearly falling back onto the couch.

"Its not bedtime yet." Hwoarang said, tossing the pillow and light blanket onto the couch. "And your in no shape to walk anywhere..and I am not sober enough to drive you where you have to go." He leaned down, picking Ling up slowly, trying not to wake her. She was light as a feather but still dead weight and even though he did not mean to, he dropped her onto the couch with a soft, thud. Luckily the leather clung around her, taking the impact.

Ling shifted as Hwoarang drew up the cover, her hand reaching to draw it to her chin, her pigtails lopsided as she screwed up her dry mouth slightly, still lost in sleep.

"Damn midget. She's almost tolerable when she's out cold." Hwoarang laughed and looked to Jin. He drew closer to the Japanese beauty, reaching out to take Jin into his arms. Hot breath pressed against the shell of Jins ear. "I am not feeling tired yet, what about you?"

Those words made Jin shiver, releasing a sharp breath when he felt the heat of Hwoarangs mouth press against the side of his neck. His fingers pressed against the Koreans shirt as his lips parted, trying to find the will to speak. "No…I am not feeling tired…"

"Good." Hwoarang ran his tongue along the delicious skin available to him, coming to the hallow of Jins throat where he suckled till he felt Jin labor a breath. The Blood Talon rose his mouth up to take Jins, claiming the Japanese beauty like a golden trophy for a single moment. "Lets go inside and let her sleep, huh?"

"Alright." Jin said with a shiver, clearing his throat slightly as he followed Hwoarang into the bedroom. The Blood Talon closed the door as Jin looked around, nervously. It had been a long time for Jin. A long time of sleeping alone with only his memories to warm him. "This is a nice bedroom. You finally have what you wanted, you know, not living like you were after you were tossed out of the hotel you were staying in."

"I have what I wanted because your in here with me." Hwoarang said with a smile, seeing how flushed Jin was, how unmoving, as though this was a dream about to be shattered by the need for waking.

"Why so nervous?" Hwoarang asked without shadowing his words with usual sarcasm. "Its only me, Jin." He stepped further into the room.

"I..I don't know. Well, I guess I do know." Jin said with an anxious smile. "Its been a long time and I never thought I would see you again, let alone be standing here in your bedroom with you."

Hwoarang was standing just a few paces away from Jin, facing the Japanese beauty but not moving, not wanting to make this uncomfortable. It was obvious what was going to happen but if it didn't, the Blood Talon was prepared to accept it. _How unlike myself just to be content to have him here. As much as I want him…_

"We are here now. Its been two years of coming round a circle but you're here and your alive." Hwoarang said with a smile.

"You broke my heart, Hwoarang." Jin said so flatly and so powerfully, Hwoarang actually blinked at the statement.

"I know." He replied, having to now cross the distance to Jin, to reach the Japanese beauty and reassure him that the Blood Talon did know what he had done to his former lover. He crossed the short distance, feeling the barrier that Jin had placed up to protect himself.

"I don't think you do, Hwoarang. I died inside when you rejected me…." Jin tried not to recall that last conversation, the moment the Devil broke through and nearly transformed at the agony of that rejection but it was already replaying itself like a movie behind his eyes. "…and yet not a moment went by that did not think of you. I wanted to hate you…and hate myself for giving you permission to hurt me the way you did."

Hwoarang reached for Jin, watching the Japanese beauty wince and pull back ever so slightly. "I don't expect you to forgive me, Jin." He said softly, putting as much feeling into his words as there was meaning. His hand remained frozen from where he reached for the Japanese beauty only to have Jin move back.

"Look, I know you have to be tired. Take the bed, I can crash out on the floor in the living room. I don't think my snoring will wake up the sleeping midget. She is smoked the fuck out." He said with a fiery smile, a shaking feeling coming his body, getting a taste of rejection, though he hid it well.

The Blood Talon walked past Jin to the door and turned the handle, looking back for a moment. "Catch some shut eye and I will see you in the morning, or should I say, later today."

As the Blood Talon pulled the door open, Jins hand came around, palm pushing against the wood to reclose it. "I am not tired, yet." Jin said with a flush to his features, yielding his strength and the force of his memories for this one perfect moment…a moment that might never present itself so perfectly again.

"Are you sure?" Hwoarang said with that tenacious exuberance Jin secretly loved nearly as much as he loved the Blood Talon.

"Yeah, I am sure." Jin reaffirmed and leaned back against the adjacent wall.

Hwoarang smiled and did not hesitate to cover Jins body with his own, using the wall once more for leverage though this time the Japanese beauty was not trapped, he was kept there by his own desire. The Blood Talon leaned in, his hands coming to Jins waist as his lips descended, letting his tongue explore the rich font of that Japanese mouth. The dim fire ignited in him as every gentle roll of his slow driving tongue drew more of Jins taste into his senses.

The Japanese beauty let his hands trail up along Hwoarangs back, feeling the sinew of muscle beneath the light shirt, his lips locked with perfect growing desire to Hwoarangs. Never had he felt the Blood Talons kiss so gentle and that only stoked the need that slowly awakened beneath his skin.

"You taste so fucking good, Jin." Hwoarang breathed against kiss dampened lips, his hands working under Kazamas shirt to finally touch bare, supple flesh. The contact was like electricity and Hwoarang wanted to be struck to death with its intensity.

"So do you…" Jin moaned, arching the small of his back to Hwoarangs probing fingers, his own coming to life as they sought the flimsy material covering the Blood Talons body. "Nothing has ever tasted…the way you do…."

Hwoarang leaned in once more to meet those parted lips claiming them with a more forceful and yet exploring passion, feeling Jin shudder with every butterfly soft touch against his skin. With a slow motion, the Blood Talon drew Jin away from the wall as those hands stripped the cloth from such a perfect upper body.

"Come to bed…" Hwoarang whispered, stepping away from Jins body as he tossed the shirt to the clean floor. He walked toward the side of the bed and removed the goggles from the line of his hair, reaching down to remove the shirt he had tucked into his jeans.

Jin felt his heart flutter, his blood pumping inside of his ears, making that subtle whisper reach him like a roar. It was sexy the way the Blood Talon said it and in a single breath, Jin was there, brushing his hands along Hwoarangs taut torso as the shirt was slowly peeled off.

"Fuck…" Hwoarang shuddered as that warm palm brushed along his upper body, leaving a trail of heat everywhere Jin touched. "I missed you baby…I missed you so fucking much." It was true. Every word of it.

"As I missed you…" Jin quivered softly as Hwoarang drew them skin to skin for a long moment, absorbing the sensation of that warm Japanese flesh against his own. Using the flat of his palm, the Korean pressed down Jins torso to the line of his pants, opening them with a quick motion that for all its energy wasn't in the least bit hasty. It felt natural…every sensation built like a pyre meant to stand the test of time.

Jins fingers wound through Hwoarangs coppery tendrils, entwining that fiery mane between his grip, recalling how he loved to do this the moment that feathery softness met his skin. The other hand fell along the Blood Talons side, caressing the skin there before coming around the front to unbutton and unzip the Koreans form fitting jeans.

Jins eyes met Hwoarangs as he slowly sat down on the bed, tugging down his pants and letting them pool by his feet. Shaking fingers reached up to do the same for the Blood Talon, letting the denim snake its way down those firm hips to the knees before the Korean stepped out of them. Hwoarangs fingers held against Jins strong shoulders as his lover looked him over, recalling every naked and glistening detail.

"Your even more beautiful than I remember you, Hwoarang." Jin said as he shivered, his hands staying at the Blood Talons hips as he reached in to brush the heat of his velvet tongue against Hwoarangs torso, feeling that firm, throbbing length press just beneath his chin.

"Ahh, Jin-kun. That mouth of yours…there has never been a mouth like yours." Hwoarang groaned, tilting his head up at the feel of that velvet hot brush along his torso.

Jin smothered himself in hot Korean flesh, his hands sliding down Hwoarangs hips to the outside of his thighs, pulling his lover closer to him as that warm pink tongue slipped further down to a very well kept, shaved base. Hwoarangs fingers massaged Jins shoulders, one hand trapsing down that supple spine.

"Jin." He moaned when he felt the tip of his length taken into the wealth of those lips, the hot twirl of that perfect Japanese tongue swirling his crown and driving him into an instant state of oblivion.

He closed his eyes when he heard Hwoarang whisper his name, his mouth claiming inch after inch as he melded to the Koreans touch down his back. Only when he could taste Hwoarang in the back of his throat and the hot spasm of his throat muscle threaten to close, did Jin begin to move his lips and give hot suck, moving that thick shaft in and out of his mouth with building speed.

"Fuck, Jin!" Hwoarang let out a heavy, powerful moan, fighting instinct to keep his hips still. How he wanted to thrust into that welcoming heat.

And just then, at the edge of the Koreans sanity, Jin released his lips and looked deep into Hwoarangs eyes. "I have not been touched since you." It was simple and yet powerful and it made Hwoarangs heart pound in his chest to know now Jin had kept himself pure…even if he had not.

Jin drew himself onto the bed on his knees, with his back to the Blood Talon. He looked over his shoulder to the panting vision of the only one he swore he would ever love… "I do not expect that you have done the same as I, Hwoarang…and none of that matters to me now, nothing but this moment with you."

Hwoarang ran his fingers down Jins perfect back, kneeling one knee on the bed as Jin rested on his knees, looking over his shoulder to him. His chest pressed against that supple spine as Hwoarang leaned in to claim Jins mouth with a raging passion barely contained by the gentle roll of his tongue. The Japanese beauty was panting as their mouths broke apart, pressing back against the Blood Talons chest.

"I am going to make love to you…with you, Jin-Kun…and though I may not be as pure…this is something…I have done with no one before you…" Hwoarang whispered, his breath like fire against the shell of Jins ear, his sienna eyes holding the depths of Jins chocolate gaze. "And when we are one Jin..one body…I want you to call me by my name…Seung Roh…I want to hear your lips say it…but not until then…"

Jin felt his body flush till he thought he might actually cry. The great mystery revealed amidst all the other words that crashed over him like water to burning flesh. The Japanese youth felt his body shake as he leaned back against Hwoarang for support… "Your name…your trusting me with your name…" Jin spoke in a broken whisper.

"I am trusting you with a lot more than my name. But there is time for all that." Hwoarang let his tongue travel along the warm depth of Jins neck, laving against the join of the shoulder as one hand pressed the Japanese beauty forward, bringing Jin to all fours before him.

For that single moment, Jin was pleased to not see Hwoarangs face…too much emotion, too much love threatened to be spilled like a baptismal. Hwoarang kneaded his fingers along those firm, pale globes, savoring the sensation as he leaned down in line with such an enticing backside.

Jin gasped when he felt the warm, slick tongue brush against his entrance, his head falling down toward the mattress in a spray of black tendrils as his lips swallowed a low moan. Hwoarangs mouth added a hot pressure, spreading him open…making his body jolt and quake at the sudden sensation.

The Blood Talon tilted his head to the side, pressuring the slick opposable muscle deeper into the Japanese youths body, slicking the entrance for their moment of pure unity. He moaned, teeth gently prying against that tight pucker, drowning himself in the taste of Jins pure essence, that rich musk. To know no other had tasted what was his, made every lap of his tongue all the more eager.

"Mmmm…" Jin sucked back a breath, his fingers pressing into the covers as Hwoarang explored him, laving that velvet tongue inside of him…making the Japanese youths body ache like a harp string pleading to be plucked. Jin lifted one hand, wrapping his fingers around his firm length…

"Not yet Jin." Hwoarang lifted his lips, his tongue lapping up that deep cleft, his teeth nibbling against the edge of a firm, pale globe. "I know you are aching…I can taste it." He teased though his voice still carried a tone of warmth Jin was not used to but could easily grow accustomed to hearing.

"The need for you burns." Jin whispered hoarsely, planting his hand down on the covers, letting it wad against his fingers as he breathed out heavily.

"I know, Jin…and that fire will soon be quenched." The Blood Talon licked his palm heavily, grasping his length and letting the fluid glide over his slickening shaft, mixing with precum that pearled in desire for Jins body.

Hwoarangs hand gripped Jins hip strongly and the Japanese youth gasped, knowingly. Hard or soft pace, Jin wanted to feel the Blood Talon inside of him, to be full and choking with every beautiful inch until he was panting with sweet pleasure. "Please…" Jin whispered, dangling in bittersweet agony as he felt that tenuous grip on his hip.

"Anything for you, Jin…anything at all." Hwoarang moaned, using his hand to guide that solid length to Jins slick and awaiting portal. He lingered there a moment, letting his crown press to his lovers opening. Jin let out a soft whimper and Hwoarang was at the edge of his own sanity.

Pushing past the guarding ring of muscle, Hwoarang gasped when he felt tight heat envelope him, convulsing walls trying to push away the intrusion. Jin let out a strangled moan at the slow, steady breach, the rich hot pleasure that mingled with pain…but it was not about injury…it was the pain of being spread open, of being claimed…of the slow union.

"Fuck Jin…your so tight. I forgot how tight…" Hwoarang moaned as his now free hand took the other hip firmly, pressing in slowly, gentle as he could be. He was making love to his Japanese beauty…as slow and steady as he could muster and he felt Jin opening to him….

"Hwoa-Kun!" Jin nearly buckled, spreading his knees further apart as the dull, pleasurable pain spread him open and wrapped velvet heat around Hwoarangs hard length. He was gasping for breath between mewls of desire, his head dropping lower toward the bed as a thin trickle of sweat beaded from his nose.

Hwoarang remained perfectly still, buried in the heat to the hilt of his length, hard breath pressing past his lips as one hand freed itself from Jins hip to slide up that glistening spine. United…at last.

The Blood Talon reached that exploring hand around to Jins waist, encircling his lover and slowly forcing Jin to raise to his knees, his length shifting into Jin deeper with each motion.

Jin pressed his back against Hwoarangs chest, his head fallen on a firm shoulder. His lips parted for a heavy, painfully eager sigh…his body was on fire and needed his Korean…needed the sweet pleasure and sweet pain only the Blood Talon could give him.

"Look at me Jin." Hwoarang managed, his voice a wicked slow whisper as he turned the Japanese beauty's face toward him, feeling how keenly Jins entrance held him…milked around him.

Jins eyes met Hwoarangs, his lips parted and moist, face flushed with trickles of sweat. Nothing had ever felt like this…

"Say my name, Jin." It was such a simple and yet powerful request. Hwoarang felt his body tense, the pressure of this position forcing him to feel every sensation more clearly than he could ever imagine. Two bodies…had become one…

"Seung Roh…" Jin whispered, his eyes holding the Blood Talons, even as tears threatened to spill over the rim and down his cheeks. Never had he felt so fulfilled…so wanted…so loved. And that name, that sacred combination of letters that formed a word…was the epicenter of his world.

Hwoarangs eyes felt misted as he leaned in to kiss Jins lips, twisting his body nearly unnaturally to accomplish the feat. Jin twined his tongue against Hwoarangs, his body wracked with unshed tears., drinking in the Blood Talons breath and taste as though he was starving. Only once in his life did he ever cry out of emotion…and that was the day his mother was killed. No matter the agony, Jin kept his emotions inside..but now…there was no holding back.

"Seung Roh…" Jin whispered as his lips broke from Hwoarangs. He might as well have been saying those three little words by just saying those two.

"Now you know my secret…" Hwoarang moaned, clasping Jin by the waist to him as he slowly began to thrust, feeling his crown forced upward in pleasurable agony, brushing a tender, buried place inside of his lover.

Jin held onto Hwoarangs arm, his lips letting free a heavy groan…feeling his insides flash like fire, making his length twitch and weep with sudden, intense pleasure.

"Fuck" Hwoarang hissed, drawing himself nearly out of Jins body, only to thrust back in, more powerfully this time. Jin slid down, falling onto all fours with the sudden and intense sensation. "Fuck…Jin-Kun…your perfect…"

"Seung…" Jin whimpered, barely able to form those words. The sensation was maddening, intense and it made the Japanese beauty shudder like a broken angel with each powerful lap into his body.

Hwoarang lifted his head up, eyes closed tightly as the pace intensified…till he could hear the sound of flesh connecting to flesh…feel Jins walls clench and release each thrust. The Blood Talon was already so close to completion…it was almost unreal. "Use that hand baby..find my pace…"

Jin let his instinct guide him, sliding back in counterthrust to Hwoarangs ardor, making himself groan with the sensation, even as his fingers tunneled around his own length. The Japanese beauty felt his desire twitch against his fingers as Hwoarang took shorter, deep laps into his body…those firm hands holding his hips and guiding Jin back with a rapid pace.

"Jin…fuck baby…nothing feels like you do.." Hwoarang groaned, unable to hold back the need for heavy thrusts…the need to spiral into the oblivions Jins body gave him.

"Seung…" Jin cried out as he thumbed along the head of his rosy crown, slick and eager for release. Being one with the Blood Talon was like finding salvation. "I am so close."

"Fuck baby…I feel you all around me, milking me….thirsty for me. Ah, fuck baby…let it out. Come for me…" Hwoarang felt the instinctual haze fall over his eyes as he drew Jin deeper into him.

Jins whimper became a dull roar as he stroked himself to the spiraling end. "Seung..for you…ahh…Seung Roh…I come..for you." Sticky hot splashes of seed slicked the Japanese beautys fingers, making him arch and convulse with a hot string of moans.

"Ahhh…Jin…" Hwoarang could feel that velvet heat milking him, thirsty to receive him. He pressed his hips deep into Jin, nearly forcing his lover to press his cheek to the cover. Hot ribbons of seed spiraled deep into Jins body, feeding his lover on the rich, salty sweet font, his very life essence.

"God damn baby." Hwoarang raised his arm, wiping the sweat from his brow with his own skin. He rode the aftershocks, feeling his spine arch until every movement became overly sensitive. The Korean drew back, withdrawing from Jins core as a moan left his lips.

Jin was curled up on the bed on his haunches, still wracked with slow seizures as the Blood Talon drew onto the bed next to him, kneeling at Jins side. He leaned over, letting his tongue lap down that warm, sweating skin from the base of that supple spine to a tense shoulder. "How do you feel baby."

Jin gasped for breath, looking up from the forearm he braced his forehead against. He smiled, shivering as he met Hwoarangs eyes. "Like I could fly."


	6. The Salvation of Design

Chapter Five

The Salvation of Design

"Fuck, baby." Hwoarang groaned, feeling his length devoured by Jins welcoming entrance. A thin bead of sweat trickled down the Blood Talons face, coppery tendrils brushed back and glistening with every, feral exertion. He could have his Japanese beauty over and over again…and never tire.

Jin fisted the ragged sheets, shaking against the Koreans ardor, laying on his side with legs spread, one resting against the Blood Talons slick torso, calf slung over Hwoarangs shoulder. Heavy, panting breaths escaped the Japanese youths lips, feeling the Korean deep, so incredibly deep like this. "Seung Roh…" Jins hot mouth breathed, head tipping once more up, extending his neck…desperate for the Blood Talons searing kiss.

"Your getting me close, baby." Hwoarang hissed, feeling the pressure build in his gut. They barely had cooled down when the heat of desire had built once more. Two years of need being purged with every vicious thrust.

Jins free hand stroked hard in time with Hwoarangs thrusts, thumb brushing almost cruelly over his own sensitive flushed crown, his body shaking at each pass. "Seung…harder…" The Japanese youth barely managed, eyes shut tight against every lightning spark of sensation that flooded the blackness behind his orbs.

Hwoarang snickered darkly. He knew what Jin wanted…knew what his lover needed but had been to proper to ask for. Until now. "Tell me what you want, Jin-kun." He purred, slowing his thrusts, feeling that hot core milk him.

Jin protested with a tortured groan, unable to arch back to coax Hwoarang to fill him. "Please…" The Japanese beauty was flush and glistening with sweat, biting down the need to ask for what he knew the Blood Talon could give him…the cool balm for his burning soul..the one thing he needed to find completion.

"Jin." Hwoarang hissed, loving this little power play as his hand grasped Jins wrist, keeping that stroking hand still. "You know how to ask me baby…don't play hard to get now…we are passed that."

Jin curled his fingers in as Hwoarang prevented him from his ministrations. His body was like a tense cord ready to unwind, nothing mattered more than this sensation…and his lovers desire to hear him ask for it. "Seung Roh…give me pain…hurt me…"

Those words enflamed Hwoarang as they always used to do. He loved Jins masochistic side and that rare sadistic side he could show when his confidence was high. But at this moment, Jin wanted the sweet agony…wanted to release from the pain…and Hwoarang was more than willing to give his lover every blissful sensation.

The Blood Talon released Jins wrist as the Japanese beauty opened his eyes, holding Hwoarangs amber gaze, so close to the edge, so ready to receive. The Korean did not pause a moment, driving home into Jins body even as his lover began to stroke himself with feral desire. The hard slap of flesh, of Hwoarang driving his stiff length deep into that willing body, feeling the grip tighten as Jin let free a strangled cry. "I want to hear you…Fuck, Jin-Kun…fuck how you take me…hard as I give…you take me."

The pace was near punishing, the sweet but slight rip of flesh that released the scent of copper in the air, the scent of blood. That only enflamed Hwoarang, punishing Jins velvet core with every crushing motion.

"Seu--ng…" Jin could barely breath, his back arching as the build up threatened to break free like an overfilled dam. He swore the walls returned the sound, swore all of Tokyo could hear him…

"Fuck baby…yes." The Blood Talon leaned over more, taking Jins leg with him till his arms were firmly planted on either side of his beauty. Every hard thrust was met with velvet, every sweet sound of flesh driving against flesh, preslicked core making a whet, well used sound, the hot smell of sex and musk…Hwoarang was at his edge.

Jin arched violently, the sweet agony mingled with ecstasy dragging him over the edge until his length seized against his fingers…his lips releasing a moan of indescribable depth, ribbons of seed coating his fingers as Hwoarang pressured hot lava into his very core…his lovers cries of desire mingling with his own.

For a long moment neither one moved. Only the sound of ragged breaths, wracking lungs desperate for air could echo from the walls. Hwoarang slid from his lovers core slowly, letting Jins leg return to the bed with careful motion. He knew those muscles were well stretched and undoubtedly half numb.

The Blood Talon came down to his knees between Jins spread thighs, lifting the Japanese youths whet hand to his lips with a breathless smile. "How do you feel, Jin-Kun?" He purred, hot pink tongue lapping the remnants of warm seed across his Japanese beauty's fingers. There was no confection that tasted like Jin, no sugar as sweet.

Jin reached his free hand out to Hwoarangs sweat drenched upper arm, gripping onto that flesh as though it was all that grounded him to this world. He smiled, released of all his tension, of all of his desire, his body thrumming with Chi, sated to the brim and feeling Hwoarangs very life force inside of him. "I feel…as though I have touched heaven…" His smile grew as he watched Hwoarang taste the font from his fingers before the Blood Talon leaned down and took that still throbbing pink crown between his lips.

The overly sensitive flesh twitched and Jin arched, a soundless laugh escaping his lips, much to Hwoarangs delight. The Blood Talon loved to feel that shiver, even as he released that perfect tip and took Jins lips like a vulture on its prey.

Jin lavished in the languid taste of Hwoarangs mouth, mingled with sex and sweat. His tongue rolled against the Blood Talons for a long moment as two glistening bodies rested against each other.

"Hmmm…I don't think two years of desire can be sated in one morning but I think we are on the right path." Hwoarang purred, falling onto his back, his breathing slowly returning to normal.

Hwoarang rose, brushing his fingers through sweat dampened tendrils, sinking to his knees to retrieve clothing from his duffel, still not unpacked completely to his new abode. "Care to join me for a shower, Jin-kun?"

Jin stretched, feeling sore muscles scream, not unlike the morning after that very night Hwoarang had first made love to him. "It is a distinct possibility." So much stress relieved, it was as though Jin could have melted against the bed and refused to move for a year.

The Blood Talon rose, pressing out a side kick to stretch his hip, walking toward the bathroom in a none too hasty pace, turning the glass shower on. Perhaps another time he and Jin could use the spiraling whirlpool bathtub, but for now, the shower was enticing enough.

That was when Jin saw it. The black tattoo between his lovers shoulder blades. The shape at first was shifting on Hwoarangs smooth back muscles too much to discern it; but then, as the Blood Talon prepared to brush his teeth and stood still for a moment, Jin could see it clearly from his place on the bed.

A black feather, curled at the top as though the wind might have brushed the ink, the rest in nearly tribal strong black motif. Jin felt his heart freeze…felt his body stiffen, fear shooting through him at the idea Hwoarang…might have known.

The Blood Talon spit mouthwash into the sink and ran the tap to rinse it clean once more. "So, you coming?"

Jin could not muster words, could not speak. He was staring forward, surrounded by hastily pulled sheets.

"Jin?" Hwoarang asked again, pausing from adjusting the temperature of the shower to regard his lover.

"Yes. I will be there..in just a moment." He finally made out as Hwoarang stepped into the confines of the shower. _It can not be coincidence. _

Jin rose on shaking legs, feeling his back crack as he readjusted his spine from a long and powerful session with the Blood Talon. Just when he believed the ache in his heart could be alleviated, there was this small but important revelation filling him. For a night, the Japanese youth had nearly forgotten the angst and turmoil that surrounded his life and now, he felt grounded in the center of its talons once more. If Hwoarang knew of this secret, that made him dangerous…and if Jin continued to feel this level of euphoria, the devil within would know something as well and the Korean would prove to be a useful target to destroy all that was left in Jins world but his ambition to destroy Heihachi Mishima.

The Japanese youth slowly drew toward the bathroom where the steam of hot water filled his senses, heavy and damp, mingled with his lovers scent. He closed his eyes for a moment and drew back the sliding glass door, stepping in behind the Blood Talon.

Hwoarang was facing the wall, hot water streaming in rivulets down his spine like a waterfall over that black ink stain. "Took you long enough." He said, rolling his head beneath the teeming nozzle.

"I needed to stretch." Jin said simply enough, his eyes lingering on the stark feather against such tawny skin, his hands coming up to grasp Hwoarangs lateral neck muscles, giving the whet flesh a slow, massaging squeeze.

Hwoarang felt the tension in his neck yield like butter beneath a hot knife. "Its always good to stretch after a work out." He purred, letting his head roll back into those firm massaging hands.

"And that was quite the work out." Jin lowered his eyes, still feeling the echo of the Blood Talon inside of him, his body vacant without each unifying thrust.

Hot water slid down the wealth of the Japanese youths body as Jin drank in the heated scent of his lover mixed with the fragrance of soap. Hwoarang was an intoxicant to his senses.

"Those hands are magic, baby." The Blood Talon purred, yielding in to that warm touch.

Something inside of Jin stirred, made him clench his eyes tightly at hearing such a beautiful omission. _ Take him._ Came the voice of inner desire and conscience. _If he is to belong only to you, then claim what is before you. _It was a voice Jin knew, a familiar energy he pushed back into his mind as deep as he could.

"When did you get a tattoo?" Jin asked calmly, his hands leaving the lateral muscles to slowly linger down the supple spine before him, tracing the black ink.

"About a year ago." Hwoarang arched to Jins exploring hands. "You like it?" He looked over his shoulder with a smile.

"I am jealous of its closeness to your skin. Imprinted on you." Jin said, easing up the tension of his eyes to find Hwoarang looking at him with that delicious smile that threatened to rip through his flesh. "What is its symbol?" His voice carried just a touch more edge to it.

"I will tell you mine, if you tell me yours." Hwoarang leaned back, feeling that whet hot chest meet his back. Copper tendrils clung like shimmering metal against Jins skin.

Jin was at a loss for words. How could he explain something he did not himself understand. "I asked you first…" He feigned a smile, letting those trailing hands come to the Blood Talons firm globes, brushing the deep cleft that channeled fresh hot water.

Hwoarang moaned slowly through parted lips, head tilting forward slightly. "It reminded me of you…like a momento from that last time I saw you. I found a feather like that on the floor…and it seemed like a message. When I thought you were dead, I wanted to remember it…"

Jin slid two fingers deeper into that awaiting cleft, digits pushing past a tight opening to feel Hwoarang clench and release a slow, dark hiss. "Fuck, baby." The Korean managed, arching his narrow hips, pressing back as water cascaded down his spine onto Jins probing hand.

The Japanese youth took the information, recording it into his thoughts, pleased he had found a way to delay the Blood Talons own question. Jin leaned his lips along the side of Hwoarangs neck, tracing up to the shell of the Koreans ear. His fingers pressed deeper into velvet walls, a low moan rolling past his mouth. "When is the last time someone had you, Seung?"

The Blood Talon let a heavy groan press past his lips, hearing words he never expected from Jins mouth. "About a year go…a drunken one night stand in another country." It had been longer than one night, several nights in fact, but Jin did not need to know that.

That idea filled Jin with a level of possession he did not know he had inside of him. The idea of someone entwined with his Korean beauty, tasting the fruits of Hwoarangs ardor and desire. It made Jin want to purge his lover of every touch before his.

The Japanese youth added a third, painful finger to the already clenching muscles, hearing his lover gasp and sputter out the stream of water that filled his lips.

"Did he feel good inside of you?" Jin asked with a darkened voice.

Hwoarang took a heavy breath, feeling that added digit spread him wide. "Nothing feels like you, baby." It was the only words he could think of. Jin had to understand the Blood Talon thought he was dead…and even then, if that had not been a factor, the two had ended on a bad note.

Jin was not satisfied with that answer, his lips pulled back in an uncharacteristic sneer. The vision of some unnamed phantom lover ripped back through time, the thought of Hwoarang on all fours, arching to receive what the other could give. The Blood Talon did nothing without passion…

Jin slowly withdrew his fingers from inside of the Blood Talon, pressing his lover to the shower wall, chest against warm, whet tile. He grasped his length in one hand and paused the tip at that quivering ring of muscle with a streak of dominant possession that he never knew he had. His breath was like poison against Hwoarangs skin. "I am going to fuck the taste of him…out of your body…like drawing poison from a snake bite…"

Hwoarangs eyes widened at hearing that swear leave Jins lips but before he could say another word, his mouth wrapped around the sudden, painfully deep thrust that brought them into unity, eased only by the water that cascaded down around them. "Jin-kun!" The Blood Talon cried out in a heavy wanton breath, both echoing back at him from the surrounding walls.

The hot, anguished cry mingled with desire made Jin tighten his jaw, one hand encircling Hwoarangs waist, the other digging painfully into his lovers hip with elongated nails. He drew the Blood Talon back forcefully as he thrust with an instinct long buried inside of him.

Hwoarang felt so good wrapped roughly against him, a constricting velvet closing in all around him as hot Korean skin melded against his own. It was a maddening sensation, a desire to push deeper and deeper…as though the key to life, the answer to every question rested in the core of his lovers body.

Jin sputtered water from his lips as he thrust with painful ardor into Hwoarang, feeling his lover shake…hearing the hot, breathless moans swallowed by the downpour of water surrounding them. "Fuck, baby, your breaking me open…" the frenzied Korean hissed, using one hand to brace the wall and push himself back from the tile into Jins achingly hot thrust, the other coning around his own length, fisting his desire with punishing need.

"What is mine…belongs only to me. Do you understand me, Seung?" Jins voice was a cross between a growl and feral dominion. Hwoarang made him crazy…his fiery Korean…made him step outside of himself to drive the point home with every eager, punishing thrust. Jin could feel his own body quake with this sudden, hot coupling. His need was slowly drawing to a heavy, frenzied close. "From this moment on…there has been…no one…before me."

Hwoarang was overcome, his body sliding into a heated display of convulsions, groaning at the painful grip of nails into his hip…of Jins tight arm braced at his waist, of that painful ecstasy laden join emphasized by the hot whet slap of skin beneath the water. "Fuck…Im coming…" He hissed, spilling every last drop of himself in a font at his feet, so quickly cleansed by the water.

Jin felt the spasms, drowning in them till his head rolled back, forcing his lover deeper back against him. "Now…you are clean…and ready to receive me." He let free the strangled cry, feeling his body spasm into that clenching velvet, releasing heavy draughts of his length into a perfect, tight chalice.

Ling busied herself with making breakfast, even if it was well passed noon. She had slipped out, taking Hwoarangs keys from the range and walking some distance to find a store. Certainly, the two of them could not survive on beer and left overs alone. And from what she could hear through the thin walls, they would need all the nourishment they could get.

It was an odd thing really and it made Ling blush to connect the heavy cries and low moans from that bedroom to Jin and Hwoarang. They were together again, the two like oil and water. And yet, they were magnetic. They were starving from within, craving only the sustenance each other could give. It was romantic, really. But then again, Ling was a romantic.

She looked to the small table, filled with bread and rice. Hwoarang had few dishes but the Chinese youth could make due. She stirred the Miso soup slowly, watching the tofu slowly come to life from its prepackaged dehydration. She had bought some yogurt as well, a favorite she had developed from University from the western world. Now, the question remained, how long would those to be going at it before coming up for air…and food?

Jin slowly withdrew from Hwoarangs body, watching the warm water wash away a steady pink stream of blood. The heat of the cascade had slowed and soon it would be cold. His fingers released from Hwoarangs hip as he panted for breath against his Korean beautys shoulder.

Jin said nothing as he reached over the Blood Talons shoulder for the soap, cleansing himself even as his body was still shaking. He let the bar slide down Hwoarangs back working the soap into lather to soothe the body he had just ravaged. The Blood Talon was still trying to find his breath, wincing slightly as Jin cleansed him.

"I..don't know what came over me." Jin said softly, using his hands to work the soap into cooling Korean skin. Another lie. The Japanese youth knew exactly what came over him, a myriad of emotions that started with jealousy and ended with the need to possess his lover, to stake his claim…feelings he attributed to his own transformations heralded by the Devil Within.

"Whatever it was, it was hot." Hwoarang moaned, slowly drawing himself up beneath the cooling water, letting it rinse his body and what shampoo was left in his mane. He turned, reaching his hands to Jins shoulders, feeling nearly faint as the blood rushed to his head.

Jin held Hwoarangs waist, watching those flushed features. Only then did he notice the tears in his lovers flesh at the line of the Blood Talons hip. "I scratched you deep. We should clean the broken skin quickly."

Hwoarang was only slowly growing aware of that dull ache of ripped skin. "I didn't think your nails were that sharp but I don't mind carrying a few marks." He half smiled.

"I am sorry, Seung. I should have been more careful." Jin said, eyes lingering on the blood kept moist with water. Devil had been trying to get through…to make good on Jins need to claim Hwoarang.

"I'm not made of glass, baby. If something breaks, it heals." He said, watching Jins eyes, seeing how those sable orbs looked somewhat…afraid. Afraid of his own desire, perhaps, or of his own power? Or was it the need? The need was something Hwoarang could identify with, it was all consuming, dark and sugary like the sandy granules of a fresh summer pear.

"The water is turning cold. We should make our way out of the shower." Jin said, dryly. He reached behind his lover to turn the knobs and kill the stream.

Hwoarang found the strength to move, sliding the glass door open and taking up the towel there and handing it to Jin. He leaned into what he thought might have been a linen closet and could see the water heater now, its pressure low. On a shelf closer to the door, he withdrew another towel and draped it around his waist. The Blood Talon paused a moment, bracing his arms on the sink and breathing in the cool air, letting that wave of nausea pass him. He was dehydrated. That had to be it. That had to explain the darkness that seemed to bury itself into his flesh.

Jin came up behind Hwoarang as the Blood Talon looked up, two images reflected in the mirror. They looked right together, somehow, and that made the Japanese youth smile. "Are you sure your alright, Seung?"

"What did you say earlier? I feel like I could fly." The Blood Talon smiled that arrogant smile and drew up to full height.

Ling was at the edge of her patience when she heard the hinges of the bedroom door open. "Finally!" she belted out in irritation. "Its amazing the two of you came up for air, and here I am stirring soup and trying to keep it hot without burning it to a crisp!"

Hwoarang grasped the pack of cigarettes he discarded last night to find only a few left. He brushed a hand through wet hair and smiled as he sparked the cylinder to life. "Aww, midget. You cooked breakfast. Now that's cute."

"Oh, I got your cute, right here! I should smarten this spoon upside your head." She retorted, watching Jin break into a smile. "Oh, and what are you smiling about? I could hear you loudest of all in that room. So, I don't ever want to hear you talk in whispers again."

Jin let a chuckle free, looking to Ling with a sheepish smile. He liked moments that felt natural when it came to his new found time with Hwoarang. It was nice to have someone in this world know the two of them were together, if even for this moment alone.

"Alright, alright. Lets see what you made for breakfast." Hwoarang took inspection, drawing closer to the small table to see some things to whet his appetite. He was no fan of the soup because of the taste of tofu, but with some Korean hot pepper it might be good. The Blood Talon exhaled his traditional halo of smoke. He drew past Ling to open the cabinets above where he had seen the hot pepper paste the day before and now, drew it victoriously toward the table. "Yeah, he is loud, isn't he?" Hwoarang added as a lingering thought, his lips cracked into a smile around the filter of his cigarette.

Jin walked over, blushing furiously, still in last nights clothing, though he was undoubtedly clean and scented of soap. "Thank you for breakfast, Ling. Thank you for being here."

Ling pursed her lips. "You will thank me with every detail, later." She said, even as Hwoarang gave her a surprised look. "Oh, I am his best friend. I get all the random goodies and I am invoking that privilege."

"Well damn, maybe I should have you film it for us?" Hwoarang snickered, pouring soup from the ladle into the bowl awaiting him. He picked up the spoon and tossed a healthy dose of hot pepper paste into the liquid.

"Hwoarang and Jin, the movie. Well, the porno anyway." She laughed, dropping her anxious facade. "Well, you both are looking pretty content and you should be after how many hours? I went to the store at 10 and here it is almost 1 and finally you both emerge. Did you sleep at all?"

Jin drew toward the table, taking some of the soup. The acrid smell of the hot pepper hit his nose, making his eyes threaten to tear. He could scent the heat from Hwoarangs soup and wondered how the Koreans lips could wrap around something that hot. "No." Jin said simply. "But I should sleep, soon."

"And I should get back home soon. Grandfather is going to be frantic." Ling said, dropping down to take up some bread and yogurt.

"I have some things to do today myself." Hwoarang took a sip of the mixed soup, feeling the spicy liquid mixed with tofu and onions slide down the back of his throat, clearing out his senses.

Ling took a bite out of the bred and poured herself some green tea, leaving the saucepan with boiling water on the table above a towel, incase either of the other two desired to mix some up. Jin and Hwoarang were strangely quiet. Ling wondered if now that the body had been sated, their hunger kept them ravenous to the task of eating.

"So, does this mean you to are back together?" She asked, lifting the cup of steaming tea to her lips.

Hwoarang looked to Ling. That was poorly timed. When he did not hear Jin say anything, he cast a glance to the Japanese youth.

Jin felt the heat of two eyes on him and placed the bowl down. "I do not believe we should be too quick to classify things. It has not even been a full day since we have come into each others lives." That felt uncomfortable. "I am not ruling out the possibility…"

"Oh." Ling said, not expecting that comment…especially not from Jin.

"We have only been back in each others lives for a day. A fucking day, literally." Hwoarang snickered, feeling a sudden raise of anger. The flush of his features he could attribute to the hot pepper paste. He did not know why Jins words unnerved him so much. Was it not he who had previously wanted to dash any chance of calling the two of them a relationship?

"Se--Hwoarang. You best of all could understand my words." Jin said with a sigh.

"You weren't talking about 'understanding' and 'possibilities' when you were begging to cum beneath me, now were you?" That was deep. That cut was deep. The Blood Talon rose, suddenly losing his appetite.

"That was not necessary, Hwoarang." Jin said, the magic between the two feeling suddenly and explicably over. Now, euphoria was replaced by reality. He loved Hwoarang, it was true…but he could not risk being hurt again. He could not risk the danger it would be to his Korean lover if parts of himself were violently brought to life as they could have been in the shower. Those scratches fro elongated nails Jin did not even feel was sobering. "Why do we have to define what is between us, here and now? Is it not enough to be near to each other after two years? Why must be proclaim intentions that we do not yet even know?"

"I don't know. I wasn't even thinking about that subject but now that its out, I guess its _really_ out." The Blood Talon said, walking into the kitchen.

Ling bit her lip, watching two sets of eyes locked to each other even as Hwoarang moved past her. Jin rose and walked into the kitchen, even as the Blood Talon paced, one hand in his drying mane.

"Please, Hwoarang." It sounded foreign to call him that when his lips wanted to reconnect to the intimacy of the Blood Talons given name. "I do not mean my words to offend you. There are many factors on the line, we do not have to be quick to give this a definition. To give one in haste will only fall apart."

Hwoarang snickered a breath. "I don't know why I carried this torch for you, for two years. This little conversation is like flaunting money before a begger. It's a tease that isn't going to go away."

Jin took a deep breath. "Do you want me to tell you I am your significant other, your boyfriend? Will that stop this here and now and make what time that is left go pleasantly? I will say it, commit to it if you feel so strongly about it."

Hwoarang flashed Jin a look of smoldering death. "Say it but don't mean it, huh, Kazama? No thanks, baby. I am just fine leaving everything where it is. Just the way it is." The Blood Talons words were layered upon an even thicker meaning.

Jin paused for a long moment before reaching a hand out to touch Hwoarangs exposed upper arm. The Blood Talon pulled back but that hand came once again. Burning amber met dark chocolate. "Are we alright?"

"Fucking golden, baby. Just fucking golden." Hwoarang said with the edge of venom to his voice. He allowed Jin to lean over and brush a soft, slow reassuring kiss to his lips, but this time he did not open up to receive the silent passion and reassuring forgiveness Jin asked for.

"Can I see you again?" Jin asked as he pulled back.

Hwoarang could have said a thousand things and none of them flattering, none of them would alleviate the sudden sense of rejection he felt. _Fitting to be on the receiving end of it, my turn to be the bitch, _he figured. He had been trying to show Jin how he felt rather than say it, had been breaking down his own walls to humble himself, knowing in the past he was wrong, something he had to carry for two years before finally feeling relieved. Now, Hwoarang was pleased he gave away nothing more than his name, and even then, the bud of regret was building. He was finally comfortable with placing himself and Jin together but it seemed his lover was far from that warm, cozy place. And just as quickly as Jins words had first made an impact, Hwoarangs walls were back up and enforced.

"Yeah. You know how to find me." He said coming out of the small kitchen to the living room, grasping up his pack of cigarettes and sparking one to life.

Ling watched the exchange, feeling like a heel for bringing up what she believed to have already been cemented. Now, like a scolded child, she paid attention to her breakfast, finding herself no longer hungry but not willing to disregard it.


	7. The Metal has a Will of its Own

Chapter Six

The Metal has a Will of its Own…

"You were a little harsh back there." Ling said, keeping her eyes down along the ground as she walked beside Jin. For the first several blocks leading out of the Yurei district, the Japanese youth had been quiet, contemplative. Her words were honest and she knew they hit a hard mark.

"I thought I was being realistic." Jin sighed, not wanting to discuss this, making that evident by his cool demeanor. "After what has happened between us, I think it is more than fair. Hwoarang can not be a threat to my heart…any more than he can be a threat to my purpose here."

"Jin, that's not how it works." Ling said, frustrated. The Blood Talon was growing on her and she hated to admit she actually was starting to like the fiery Korean.

"Then how does it work, since you know so much?" Jins legendary patience snapped and he paused on the walk. "Your not behind closed walls with us."

"No, Jin, but I certainly can hear a lot behind those safe closed in walls." Ling was growing to a spiraling end to her patience. "All evening long you were just happy to be in his presence and I know for a fact you did more than talking behind those hallowed closed walls. So, why did you have to act like a spoiled brat? You said yourself you loved him!"

Jin narrowed his eyes. Not liking the way Ling jumped to Hwoarangs defense. "You are overstepping your boundaries."

"Well maybe the boundaries need to be overstepped, Jin. If you love someone, you don't turn your back, not now when you have a chance to make a go of this. Maybe your just afraid of Hwoarang, as much as you are afraid of Heihachi." Ling pursed her lips, words loosed like arrows.

"Maybe I am!" Jin hissed, throwing his hands up in the air. "Maybe I am scared half to death of being rejected again, of watching him step all over my bleeding heart. He did it once, what is to say he wont do it again?"

That was the most animated Ling had seen Jin, ever. Something inside of the normally stoic, gentile Kazama, was changing. "Nothing is to say he wont do it again. But you have still loved him, even two years after you both broke up. That has to mean something. Damn it, Jin, why cant you see the forest for the trees."

Jin was not going to concede to the fact Ling was right, even if she was. "And I am not afraid of Heihachi Mishima. I am determined, when it comes to him, to do what I have come here to do. The rest of my life might be in turmoil, but not this. Not this."

"Come on, Jin. The day is drawing on and I have to get home." Ling said with a sigh, knowing she was not going to talk sense into his mind any more than she already had. Hopefully, some of it would stick in that thick head of his.

"I can walk you into the downtown, after that, we must part ways." Jin said with a sigh. "If you cant find me, now you know where to look." He said, referring to Hwoarangs apartment. He hated to say it, but he would more than likely go back there and set what damage he had done under control.

Chang set some yen down on the bar as he drew up behind Hwoarang. "Been wondering where you were at. Did you forget I gave you a cell phone?"

Hwoarang turned his eyes to Chang though his hands gripped the bottle of whiskey and the shot glass in front of him. "Yeah, its back at the apartment." He said with a half smile.

"So, that was Jin, huh?" Chang sat down on a stool beside the Blood Talon. Where else would he find Hwoarang on a Saturday night. "Looks pretty alive to me."

Hwoarang smirked. "Yeah, alive and feisty as ever." He wanted to say more, but his words said enough for his compatriot to understand.

"Did you get the info you needed to satisfy your questions or did you get too much?"

"Lets just say, I got a craw full." Hwoarang poured himself a shot and downed it, slamming the glass onto the bar before lighting up a cigarette.

"Saatchi saw him too, saw you run off." he said as a beer was set in front of him, watching the Blood Talon in an unusually somber mood. That seemed to happen when talk of Jin was involved.

"What the fuck else could go wrong?" The Blood Talon snickered. "Doesn't matter. I don't expect him to be more than an occasional fix in my time here anyway."

"Relationship troubles?" came a smooth, familiar accented voice. A firm forearm setting down money on the bartop before claiming the seat on the other side of Hwoarang.

The Blood Talon turned his eyes to the newcomer and smiled lasciviously. "Would be, if it was a relationship. But then again, I don't do relationships. How ya been, Steve?"

The Blonde smiled, looking Hwoarang over. Not much had really changed in a year. "Here for the tournament. I knew you would show up as well. Didn't think the military could keep you caged for long. Feisty as you are."

"Not with a purse this big on the line. And the chance to get at some answers on what happened with Do San. What about you, found your mother yet?"

Steves azure eyes sparkled. "Getting closer every day. If I can get my time in with Mishima, I might get more answers. There is rumor she will be at the tournament. I suppose we all have our reasons for being gathered here. We shall see."

"Always a fucking Mishima ruining shit, eh?" _Or Kazama. One in the same._

"You could say that." Steve took up a Guiness and tilted the cap off. He acknowledged Chang. "A pleasure to see you again. Excellent fight we shared. You have some wonderful skill."

"Heh, well tell that to my face. Hell of a right hook you got there, Steve." Chang sipped his beer, watching Hwoarang…watching Steve. Something there. Something definitely there. And it went beyond polite recognition. When and where had the two met before?

"That is what I do. I have trained long and hard at the art of boxing. Its like a dance, really. A good bit of fun." Steve smiled, nodding his head to Hwoarangs friend.

The Blood Talon poured another shot and downed it as fast as the libation poured. Steve lifted the bottle, looking at it for a long moment before scenting the strong libation to determine its worth. "A stout Irish Whiskey. Double Malt. Good year."

"Yeah, well I had some money to burn for a change." Hwoarang snickered, flicking the ashes of his forgotten cigarette. The Brit could prove a welcomed distraction, a band aid for the pain he was in.

"So, I take it you met up with the one you had been seeking. When last we spoke, you were sullen about your ex." Steve said, lifting the dark lager to his lips. "Not for long, of course."

Chang was soaking all of it in. This could prove to be a bad situation. He turned to regard the rest of the patrons of the bar, listening but pretending not to.

"You could say that. He wasn't really an ex, he just…was." The Blood Talon said with a half loaded grin.

"Then I suppose this situation did not work out beneficial for the both of you. I trust your parting was on good terms?" Steve said with a smile.

"What is everyone writing a column? I don't really want to talk about it." The Blood Talon said, firmly.

"Fair enough." Steve tipped the bottle toward Hwoarang. "What say you we finish this round and take a walk, catch up. Chang, you are of course invited to join?"

Chang shook his head. "No, I would not consider interrupting two reunited friends. But that brings to mind a question. Where did you both meet?"

"Hwoarang was stationed in the Military, working with some of our troops along with his battalion. It just so happened we met on the outskirts of London at a pub much like this one. Funny how history repeats itself?"

The Blood Talon had omitted that information when Chang had told the gang leader about the street fight with the Brit, obviously the very same one. Interesting how people change.

Hwoarang rose and clasped Chang on the shoulder. He leaned in so only his compatriot could hear him. "I will be at the den in the morning."

Chang looked to Hwoarang, that slight stumble telling him his friend had been here longer than initially thought. The Blood Talon was not known for being the paragon of virtue when chemicals were introduced into his system. Bad mistakes could be made. "Whatever happened with Jin, don't leave here with this guy. Its not worth it man."

Hwoarang leaned up and smiled, arrogantly. "I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself."

Jin walked the streets of downtown Tokyo once Ling had left his side. He stopped to have something to eat, taking his time to think over what she had told him and what he knew to be right and wrong. Now, he paced near the entrance to the Yurei district, debating whether or not Hwoarang would receive him if he knocked…would let him into the sanctum of an earlier display.

Maybe Seung Roh was worth believing in. Maybe age and wisdom had caught up with the Blood Talon…maybe the world did not have to take a charted course but could be a scene of pleasant detours.

If Hwoarang was home, perhaps it was fate to profess his fears and wishes, his hopes. Maybe this could work. But maybe was still several blocks away and the hour was already late. Jin was not sure what he could say, knowing he would be met with a heightened level of defenses. He had broken through them before and he was confident he could do so, again.

Hwoarang took a shot of the whiskey he retained from the bar, setting the glass back down on the soft comfort of the rug. The game system was spread out just beneath the television, Steve sitting cross legged beside him. Two sets of furious fingers slammed the control buttons, making the martial arts fighters on the screen perform inhuman, death defying moves and throws. Each time Steve got a good hit in on the screen, using a Tae Kwon Do Artist, Hwoarang bucked his shoulder against the Brit, stringing a stream of curses in English and Korean together.

He barely heard the knock at the door, so heavy and intoxicated was his laughter. But it came again, and this time with more force. "Ahh, shit. I forgot to lock the downstairs." He said with half stifled mirth, coming to a stand and pausing the game. Steve, sneaky as he was, unpaused it and began to whomp the shit out of Hwoarangs character.

"You asshole." The Blood Talon hissed, hearing the knock a third time and growing more insistent. "Fucking stop messing with the buttons. Wait a minute." Hwoarang let the control fall to the floor with a soft thud, eyeing an innocent smiling Brit over his shoulder as he moved to the door.

The last person he expected was standing in front of him. Talk about a buzz kill.

Jin had heard laughter and the sound of another mans voice, heavy accented, coming from inside Hwoarangs apartment. The door had been left unlocked and slightly ajar, giving him silent access as he climbed the stairs. The Japanese youth paused for a long moment, hearing those two voices, feeling increasingly unnerved until at last, his knuckles wrapped against the door.

No reply. A second knock. Still no reply. Jin was ready to burst the door down and confirm his worst suspicions as the portal suddenly flung open, catching him off guard.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Hwoarang asked, looking back inside before stepping to the other side of the entrance, closing the door half the way behind him.

"I heard voices, entertaining late, Hwoarang? I should be asking, what are you doing here?" Jin said, his lips pursed with anger and innuendo.

"Mother fucker, I live here." Hwoarang hissed, his gait as unsteady as his gaze. "Besides, its none of your fucking business what I do with my time, now is it, Kazama?"

Jin inhaled sharply, the shattering of his world crashing down around his ears. He had come here to save face, to try to repair what damage he could before a somber and questioning night was drawing to a close. Now, his hands were slowly clenching into fists…and his mouth ached for the taste of blood.

"Hey, everything alright out there?" The accented voice asked, seeming to draw ever closer to the half closed door. Steve heard raised voices and it was far to late to be that disrespectful. Normal people were sleeping to prepare for another grinding day at work, they did not need to hear Hwoarang and his spicy, guttural voice lingering down to litter their dreams and disturb a much needed rest for hard workers.

Steve opened the door as Hwoarang and another were standing, facing off. "Hwoarang, everything alright?"

"No. Everything is not fucking alright." He hissed, amber eyes boring into Jin though the Japanese youth was staring down a new target. A gaijin face with sharp blue eyes and a mane of near platinum blonde. Exotic and undoubtedly the Blood Talons taste.

"Hwoarang, your pissed. Come inside, invite your friend. Lets not wake the neighbors." Steve said with such calm and reassurance, the Blood Talon seemed drawn. He did not bandy words with Jin, deciding it best to listen to the other inebriated voice speaking reason that flitted past his shoulder.

Jin followed, not sure what he was walking into but more than ready to guess. The Japanese youth was surprised as he surveyed the scene. A game system with controllers splayed like tendrils on the rug before the television, two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey…an ashtray nearly teeming over with smoked down cigarette butts.

Hwoarang folded his arms across his chest, standing slightly taller than Jin and at equal height with Steve. "Steve, Jin. Jin. Steve. There now everyone fucking knows each other." The Blood Talon huffed walking back toward the game system and the bottle he desperately needed at that moment.

Steve jutted a muscular arm toward Jin, a pure smile pressed over his lips. "Good to know you, Jin. Any friend of Hwoarangs is a friend of mine."

Jin took the hand, having no great strength in the motion, still reeling slightly over his false assumptions. Apparently, the Blood Talon had not spoken of him to Steve. How fitting. And enraging.

"Are you going to invite your friend for a drink?" Steve asked as the Korean took a pull directly from the bottle. Obviously, Hwoarang was getting anxious.

"Yeah, why not. My 'friend' can have a drink, if his pussy ass can handle it." Hwoarang threw out insults but it was the way he said the word "friend" that stung the hardest.

"No thank you." Jin declined, his tension already raised, his boiling point too near.

Steve sat back down, cross legged before the game system, loosing a cigarette from Hwoarangs pack. It was too quiet and tense. "So, Jin. You two been friends long?" The Brit tried to break the ice with the only thing they could have in common at first glance. Hwoarang.

There's that word again. Friend. "Yes."

"Shit, Hwoarang and I have known each other a little over a year and he never mentioned you. I thought I had them all pegged down." Steve said good naturedly, no double meaning in his words, even if Jin swore he tasted them.

A little over a year. Around the time of that one night drunken stand Hwoarang had professed to earlier in the day. Now, Jin could feel his own nails digging into his fists, concealed by his jacket. Everything on him still smelled of the Blood Talon. "I had not heard of you either and I to believed I knew all of your friends, Hwoarang, by name or face."

The Blood Talon narrowed his eyes. He could smell a pissing match before the first drop hit the ground. "Yeah, well you know how that goes." Cloy on purpose. Hurt hidden by sarcasm, the Blood Talons natural defense. "So, you gonna fucking sit down or just stand there like a goon?"

Steve shook his head. "He's had a bit too much. Not unlike old times. Hell, I could tell you some stories about a pub just outside of London and Hwoarang in his fatigues. You want to play nice?" Steve laughed, taking a swipe at the Koreans legs, receiving a sidelong glance for the Blood Talon, a genuine laugh leaving those nicotine tainted lips.

That laugh made Jin taste bile in the back of his throat. Instantly nauseas. He had never heard a pure laugh from Hwoarang, a chortle snicker or chuckle yes, but never a true, heady laughter. And it was infectious and poisonous at the same time. Why did every moment since this afternoon feel like a fight for dominance? The Japanese youth was slowly losing his control.

Jin moved silently toward the couch where he could face the two as Hwoarang gave him a deadly stare before falling back to his knees and picking up the game controller.

"Are you a gamer, Jin?" Steve asked, letting the cigarette rest against the corner of his lips.

"Yeah, you could fucking say that, right Kazama? You like to play games, pretty fucking good at them too." Hwoarang left those words dripping with double meaning.

"Your such an asshole." Steve shook his head, hoping Jin understood Hwoarang was not normally this way, just when chemicals were introduced to his system.

Hwoarang took another heavy sip from the bottle and as he did so, Steve unpaused the game, sending Hwoarangs martial arts character across the screen with a series of Tae Kwon Do kicks. "You fucking cheat!" He belted out, hitting the back button on the controller to try and minimized damage to his fighters life bar. "Fuck, done in by my own art. That's fucked up, man. You wear the asshole crown now." Obviously, a hidden joke.

Jin watched the interchange. It was almost intimate. Two people who truly seemed to know each other, connect on some level. And it hurt. It made Jin seethe with rage to see it unfold, knowing he shared none of this with the Korean…nothing but angst and a few hot cries in the middle of the night. He did not have the intimacy Steve seemed to have, the banter and fire that exchanged silently between the two and not meant for a deadly end. He dug his nails deeper into his fist, still buried in the pocket, feeling them rip skin.

"Victory is mine." Steve said, setting down the controller, not wanting to be rude. "Do you want me to leave you two alone, I don't want to interrupt this late night visit?"

"You don't have to go anywhere, Steve." Hwoarang said, leaning back on his haunches, still sore backside resting against crossed ankles. He swayed slightly.

"I know I don't have to but there is obviously some unfinished business here. I will take a run to the store and grab a pack of smokes, I know what a bitch you can be when your out." He laughed, shaking his head. His hand rested on Hwoarangs thigh for a brief moment before using the firm surface to push himself up to a standing position.

Jin felt the anger flush his features, felt his heart beat against his chest as he sat up, ready to pounce. _Touch. Him. Again. And. You. Will. Have. No. Hand. Left._

"Oh, don't get up, Jin. Hey, it was great to meet you, with luck you will still be here when I get back. it's a long walk though." Steve said, extending his hand. Jin, this time did not return the shake.

"Don't fucking walk, take my bike." Hwoarang said, coming to a stand himself, one hand fishing for his keys.

"I am in no state to drive. Cant do much harm walking, worst case, I fall down. This district might not be the safest but I haven't met a thug that can live up to my punch, yet. Well, present thug excluded." He laughed and nodded to Jin, walking toward the door. "I'll be back. You want anything else? Wait, let me guess, Red Hots?"

Hwoarang was about to speak when he laughed. It burned into Jin. Burned like hell fire. "Fuck man, I was just going to say that. Those candies are addictive as shit."

With that, Steve closed the door, pausing for a moment to hear if anything was exchanged, not sure why..but he did not feel right around Jin. Something in the Japanese youth was amiss.

Yet another thing Jin did not know. Hwoarangs fondness for the American candy. Jin was starting to feel like he did not know the Blood Talon at all. The name Hwoarang gave him was probably as false as the copper tendrils the Korean sported.

"So. Alone at last." Hwoarang snickered, taking up a cigarette and looking to Jin, the Japanese youth barely seeming to hold onto decorum, biting into the silence.

"He had you, didn't he? That is the one you spoke of." Jins eyes were flickering like a maelstrom, somewhere caught between abysmal and malevolent.

"None of your fucking business, Kazama." Hwoarang hissed, blowing smoke out of pressed lips.

"None of my fucking business? Is that what you said, Seung?" Jin was up like shot, danger flickering with streaks of red lightning in his eyes. His hand grasped the Blood Talons wrist, drawing the swaying Korean to him, those nails digging into flesh once more. "Everything you do is my business."

"Get your fucking hands off me." Hwoarang growled, pushing Jin back, still sharp on his reflexes. "You are way the fuck out of line."

Jin narrowed his eyes. "And so are you. Bringing him back here for an encore? I leave you alone for a few hours and already you found yourself an old toy to play with? So, do you fuck him…or do you get on your knees to be fucked."

Hwoarang was not lost on this new and fractured side of Jin. He just wasn't sober enough to process it. This wasn't solving a damn thing. "I like the way you beg, much better." He sniggered, daring Jin to make another grab and watch it be his last.

Jin had not expected that quip, for a moment it disarmed him, not sure how the Blood Talon meant it. "Don't you dare try to flip the tables on me. I know what was about to happen here. I can smell it on you…"

"Well, baby. That was your call, remember. You pushed me away, now, what's fair is fair." Hwoarang chided. "One good turn deserves another, Jin. And frankly, if you are just looking for a no strings attached fuck, come and find me sometime, I know how to do you right, know how to give you what you need to get off. You like it rough, and I have no problem giving you the hurt you need. In fact, I enjoy it. Lets make that our definition, huh? We can keep it real simple so we don't need to _classify _anything. But other than that, stay the fuck away from me."

Jin was crossing the threshold of his own patience, the dull ache driving deep against his shoulder blades. He wanted blood. He wanted to rip Hwoarang open and feast on his screams…to be covered in the Koreans blood, swallow Hwoarang hole and never have to go through this again, never have the Blood Talon out of his body. _What is happening to me? _

"You don't know the first thing about me, Hwoarang. Your pushing my buttons…and you are a not even a breath away from real danger. I have go…I have to get out of here."

"That's right. Run away and go hatch your little vendetta against Heihachi. Don't face me in the tournament. Disqualify yourself now because baby, I will hurt you…and not the kind of way that will have you creaming your gi, either." Hwoarang mistook Jins sudden need to flee as weakness, when in fact, it was the last remaining vestige of the Japanese youths strength, ready to break.

Jin felt his mouth burn, his forehead thrumming with an intense and sudden headache. Devil was coming…he had been trying to arrive since this conversation began and now, Jin did not know if he had the strength to battle the demon…and Hwoarang.

The Japanese youth turned, taking the narrow path near the kitchen to the front door. His breath was becoming labored, his hand reaching out to grasp the range and hold himself up…nearly losing his balance in pain. Spiritual, physical, emotional pain.

With the last of his reserves he made it to the door, slamming it shut behind him…nearly falling down the steps to make it to the entrance and out into the night. No sooner than the darkness covered him, he felt the material of his jacket start to rip…the wings trying to break through skin and clothing to find freedom…

Hwoarang once more, felt like he was going to be sick. He could blame it on the alcohol, but somehow that wasn't cutting it. He rushed into the kitchen, turning on the tap, the coppery taste of blood in his mouth…but it wasn't his blood. It didn't taste like his own essence and he knew, he had swallowed enough of it in the past to know the difference.

The Blood Talon breathed, heavily, trying to calm himself. He raised splashes of cold water to his face to ease the burning, nauseas sensation. After a long moment, his legs would not respond, buckling beneath him and sending him crashing to the floor.

Hwoarang cursed in Korean, thrusting his back against the cabinets under the sink. And that's when he saw it. Another black feather…


	8. the metal Takes on a Life of its Own

Chapter Seven

…and (the metal) takes on a life of its own

_Jin was running down the pathways in the mountains of Yakushima… _

_The sky was dark and flickering flames had drawn his eyes, well past the fields he had played in as a boy…where his mother had been, harvesting fresh vegetables for the evening dinner. It had been sometime since her departure, growing darker and Jun had not yet returned._

_The teenager had lifted his eyes from the textbook he had been footnoting, still working on the assignment his mother had gave him during home schooling, making his English writing skills nearly as strong as his native Japanese language. He was growing hungry and slowly worried as darkness descended. It was not like Kazama Jun to be so long. He stepped outside and the dark night was littered with orange hue. A horrible feeling shifted inside of Jins gut._

…_and next he knew, he was running._

_The path was perilous in the dark, as much as Jin knew the landscape. The closer he grew to the fields below, the more sound reached him, the sound of his mother, heavy in spirit shouts to raise her Chi._

_Flames licked up from all around Jun, a sickly green creature with the stature of a powerful man, far taller than a human could be…was descending and repelled by her BuJitsu Ryu. The creatures long ponytail, orange, and the bronze armor that adorned his body was coming at her with a nonstop onslaught that was inhuman in endurance._

"_Mother!" Jin shouted, fear rising in her eyes._

_Jun whirled around with a back slide around the creature. "Turn back! Run from this place!"_

_Jin felt the intense sensation of powerless fear. His legs planted firmly in the ground. The creature was not fooled by the back sliding movement, even as Jun whirled into a cartwheel, using her legs to push the creature away. Black hair floating across her features, she could see the outline of Jin. "Run from here, Jin-Kun! Run now…"_

_The teenager was slack jawed with fear and fighting it back, ran down to the wall of flame that encircled the combatants like a sanctified ring. His arm came before his eyes and the creature turned at his approach, tasting the air for the Japanese youths Chi. Not strong enough to absorb, not yet._

_A powerful flame shot out of the creature and knocked Jin back like a force blast, sprawling him out onto the ground, some distance away._

"_Aijii! Run, please!" Jun fought like a lioness protecting her cub. The creature used the distraction to his advantage. Even as Jin rose, Jun fell to her knees, her arm hanging limply, blood glistening beneath the fire light._

"_Mother!" Jin tried to move but something far more powerful than his strengthening body, kept him in place. It was like her arms were around him, holding him in place, keeping him from harm._

_The creature grasped Jun by the throat and opened its mouth. Her eyes met his, streaming with tears. And Toshin, the God of Fighting…ended the warm light of Kazama Juns spirit…_

Jin awoke with a startle, his body wracking with tears that broke through the nightmare. It felt so real, to be there again, on the field in Yakushima, the field he had buried his mother within when the God of Fighting left her broken body. Toshin, as he had come to be known, was not interested in the teenager, he had come for and claimed the prize he sought in Jun Kazama. The life energy, Chi, to fuel him.

Jin rose to his knees, wiping his eyes with his filthy hands. He had been too young, too powerless to save her…and she had died to protect him. Now, Yakushima was where he wanted to be, to rest beside the earth her body lay within, to return to the flames of the home he had burned down before he left for Tokyo….to leave no evidence behind for the creature to disturb her body.

Pain wracked Jins form and the cool wind slid against the sticky flesh of his naked back. He fell to all fours, trying to grasp his baring, to slake the nightmare from him, only to awake to a new one.

Devil. Devil had come to life, forcing the Japanese youth to transform. Jin could feel the aching soreness of his shoulders, the muscles used there for more than martial arts, but to propel the power of flight.

Green grass beneath his fingers, Jin realized he was in the park at the center of downtown Tokyo. A hallowed ground in its own right, another place he had run from like the field of Yakushima. Everywhere Jin seemed to go, he met pieces of himself there.

Hwoarang could not find sleep, his overtired mind working against him. Steve slept on the couch, where Ling had been last night, respectful and distanced from the Blood Talon but only at Hwoarangs request.

The feather was kept in Hwoarangs hand, the morning breaking around him like waves over ancient rocks. He could not tear his mind from Jin, from the agony and anguish pressed in his lovers eyes….the pain that slaked beneath the surface of the Japanese youths flesh.

The Blood Talon had rebuffed him, self absorbed in his own anger, at the rejection he suffered from Jins hand. Kazama was right, he intended to engage in elicit acts with his former lover Steve, just to free himself of the torment, the connection he felt to Kazama.

Why the feather? Hwoarang knew well enough it had not be there before, had been nothing Jin or Steve tracked in beneath a worn sole of a shoe. There was something to it and the Blood Talon felt it intrinsically, as assuredly as he felt sick whenever that dark mood stung into Jin and emanated outward. It was as though the Korean could feel it, with the taste of blood that was not his own, lingering against his lips.

That taste of blood was another source of wonder. At first sensation, it was Jins blood, tasted like the essence Hwoarang had supped from two years ago on a torn bit of flesh his teeth had bit too deeply into…a source at Jins lips from the first night of their lovemaking. He knew without doubt it was Jins blood…but what was the connection.

The Korean closed his eyes sharply, turning on his side of the bed to watch the vacant space Jin would be resting in, panting after such a long, torturous session of lust. The bed was empty and although he had a willing participant to take up the place, it was not Jin. No one would ever be Jin.

It was like a beacon. The feeling of the Devil called to him like a large blip on military radar. Half of himself, half of his blood and tainted spirit. Kazama Jin, his son.

Kazuya Mishima walked the streets of downtown Tokyo, so much transformed from his days hiding from Heihachi, running with the Yakuza, wild with freedom and possibility. Beneath Armani sunglasses, used to shield his eyes from caustic sunlight, the former dead man was searching for signs, reading the air like a beast in the wild, looking for his cub.

It was a dangerous maneuver, coming into Tokyo, unguarded. The King of Iron Fist Tournament would begin tomorrow with the kick off celebration, a custom that ran since the beginning of the blood sport. That very first King of Iron Fist Kazuya himself had risen up from the shadows to claim the title in. 20 years went by in a flash. 20 years of learning to control the devil within his spirit to the best of his abilities, of finding those he once knew, dead. If he could find his son, he could unite the Devil, free Jin of the power he undoubtedly did not understand, rise up and reclaim his rightful place as Heir to the Mishima Zaibatsu. Kazuya did not withstand death and reanimation, of laboratory tests like a rat at the G Corporation, owned by his step brother Lee Chaolan, to fail at his mission now.

The scent was strong downtown. Kazuya stopped to drink in the essence, the very sensation of Jin and the devil in his soul, near to this place. He had passed this area not long ago and Kazuyas eyes lingered on the park across the way.

A part of the ageing Mishima wondered what Jin looked like. He had heard rumor of his son, of the incredible power and strength he attributed half to the devil, half to the passing on of his own skill and spirit. He wondered silently if Jin looked like his mother, possessed her warm nature, showed signs of her empathy and understanding.

Jun. That name stung like a cut on the inside of his mouth. He had loved her, as had the devil within himself. The operative of the WWWC was the last name on his lips when he met his death at the hands of Heihachi, for nearly a second time around, thoughts lingering on the unborn child she carried in her womb. To hear his son now held a name, held a lineage and even shared a sense of his misery made Kazuya all the more wanton to find the errant scion.

Jin wasn't making this easy. But, given time and a chance, Kazuya would find him.

/_How sentimental we have grown in age, Kazuya./ _the Devil hissed inside his mind, making his left eye glow red beneath those expensive sun glasses.

Kazuya ignored the voice.

/_You linger on the days of yore, on the love you bore for that woman. Your son is my son, half of me…you seek to free him and yet, I seek to regain what I lost in that bastard child. Freeing Jin, frees yourself. Time marches on, Kazuya_./

"Enough." Kazuya hissed, stopping on a street corner, watching a mid afternoon hustle of Koreans near an alley not far away. Some things never change, though in the height of his day, it was held underground, not so blatantly out in the streets, daring to be captured.

/_left. The scent is stronger, left./ _Devil reminded as Kazuya closed his eyes, following the Demons trail. He wanted to find Jin before Heihachi did.

Heihachi prepared his speech for the King of Iron Fist kick off celebration. A well catered dinner meant to draw all fighters together from various ranks. Most had already arrived on the weekend, the hotel he had procured for those partaking in the Tournament kept him constantly updated when another arrived. But of those faces, there were yet two who had not made themselves known.

"But they will." Heihachi answered himself, glancing over to the tournament schedule. Jin was alive and in hiding. Undoubtedly the publicity for the tournament would draw him out, rife to catch up with an old vendetta.

And then there was Kazuya. After an confirmed sighting of the prodical son with his own two eyes in the United States, there was little doubt he would come. His hate was as deep as his pride and the scores, far older to settle then Jins.

Two demons. One very well orchestrated fly trap. The Devil Gene would be in his grasp…garnered from one or the other. And, perhaps, if all plans went just right, Kazuya and his son would take care of that messy business for him, set on a path of destruction where only one would be left standing. Afterall, there was only enough room for one devil…

Hwoarang bolted when he heard the door creak, shooting upward and looking around the room, thinking himself to be in another time, another place. "Ow, fuck." He cursed, his hand going to his splitting head. He did not recall falling asleep and now, the hang over caught up with him.

"Fuck, Steve, don't do that shit." The Korean growled, one amber eye on the approaching Brit, holding a cup in his hand.

"Didn't mean to startle you. Its already after noon, thought you might be awake." Steve said with a knowing smile. "Brought you some tea, to kill the hang over I was sure you had."

"How fucking much did I drink last night?" He groaned as Steve drew toward the bed, holding steaming Green Tea. Ling had bought the packets from the store the day before.

"About half a bottle of that Irish Whiskey." Steve sat down on the edge of the bed, handing over the cup to the Blood Talon.

"God damn, my head kills." He tried to swallow, but even that minor flexation of his throat made him want to throw up.

"That is what the tea is for. Drink up and get yourself rehydrated." Steve shook his head. "You could try a little of the hair of the dog that bit you. I hear it does wonders for the morning after."

"I don't even want to look at Whiskey, well, at least not until it gets dark." Hwoarang chided, drawing the steaming tea to his lips, taking a heavy sip and disregarding the burning sensation. His palate had handled hotter.

"So, do you want to talk about your friend Jin last night. You seemed pretty distraught by the time I got back here." Steve asked, knowing something was or had been between the two. Mere friends don't have as much demand on someone's energy like an intimate.

"I really don't want to talk about him. Fuck, I just want to forget he was ever born." Hwoarang finished the tea and leaned back on the bed. He didn't mean it, not really.

"Something I am sure I can assist in remedying. Might also help with the hangover." Steve said, licking his lips slightly before pulling the cover that hugged Hwoarangs body back with a short, easy motion.

The Brit lowered himself down to the Koreans naked form. He never knew Hwoarang to sleep in any other way then completely naked and that assumption paid itself off, nicely. With a falsely innocent smile, his mouth descended.

"A little head will do wonders for any condition." Hwoarang said with a sudden moan, fingers grasping those blonde tendrils as a hiss left his lips, the other hand still clutching the black feather. "Fuck, I am feeling better already."

Jin sat on the edge of the bed, his hands cradled in freshly washed hair. His body still burned, though it was his mind that ached him most of all. Everything in his world was spiraling out of control, making him feel helpless and weak. The Japanese youth was starting to wonder why he come back to Japan in the first place. Was this anguish truly worth it.

Yes, above all, it was. If there was nothing but the satisfaction of assuring Mishima Heihachi drew no more breath, never hurt another living being, then it would all be worth it.

The knock that came to his door startled him. He had the room for a month, prepaid with what money he had brought with him and more available for withdrawal if necessary under his assumed name. None knew his whereabouts, he had been careful and discreet to be sure he was not followed, not even by the obviously resourceful Ling Xiaoyu. Perhaps, by some stroke of underground street whispers, it was Hwoarang?

That false hope dashed away, Jin did not answer the knock, hoping it was someone with the wrong door, looking for the wrong party. After a moment, it came again and Jin felt a sudden pull to part the portal…heed a call he could not understand.

The Japanese youth rose and drawing a breath, unlatched the metal and drew open the entranceway. His every bit of energy was stolen the moment he met the face that greeted him. A face, like his own.

"Kazama, Jin." came the voice and the Japanese youth stepped back, as though seeing a ghost. When the underside of his knees hit the previously torn bed, he fell into a seated position, eyes transfixed on the man who entered.

"Y..yes.." Jin managed, watching the well dressed, older man approach. He was clad in a designer suit, deep purple. Black tendrils upswept in the same style Jin had fashioned his own. There was an aura about this man that the Japanese youth had been trying to claim all of his life, a link shared in blood that only his spirit understood.

"I am Mishima Kazuya. I am your father." He said simply and yet elegantly powerful.

"My..father is dead." He said, though he knew the words to be truth the moment they were spoken. This was Kazuya, the picture he kept with him always told him that the moment he saw the man…the image frozen from 22 years ago that his mother often kept near to her, spoke to as though he was still alive. All of his life, Jin wanted to know this man…all of his life, he followed in footsteps so much larger than his own…footsteps that were braced with still, calm grace, before him.

"Your father was dead, Jin. But death, it seems, is yet another thing that can be considered, temporary." Kazuya said, studying his cubs features, seeing the resemblance to himself in younger glory. He had Juns eyes, her facial structure at the lips and high cheeks, but every other feature, from broad shoulders and obviously well cared for physique to the definitions of framing brows and upswept mane of black hair…belonged only to him.

/_Yes, I feel the spirit within him, the energy…strong and vital, youthful. The sweet impetuosity of youth, how it torments him so perfectly. There is restlessness there, a need for freedom. And there is so much more. Ahh, Kazuya, if only you could see what I see. Your grand designs for your son are not as they appear to be and it is not all the fault of the Kazama blood he possesses, no, there are darker taints here than even you can imagine…/_ The Devil cooed, so familiar into Kazuyas voice. What did the demon know?

"How…can it be." Jins lip quivered, unable to take his eyes from Kazuya. The very embodiment of every hope and dream, every silent prayer in the night, the strong hold of his own honor…was in this mans name. To make this man proud. A father he believed he would never know, a son he thought could never truly be.

Kazuya turned and drew over a chair, kept at a small table just before the covered window. "That is a very long tale to tell you, my son. But one worthy of your listening." He removed his jacket, laying it with careful motion over the arm of the chair before drawing his slacks up slightly at the hips and coming to a seat, across from his disbelieving, shivering scion.


	9. Back into the Fire

Chapter Eight

Back into the Fire

One by one they came, warriors and hopefuls, the best of the best, all gathered for the most prestigious tournament in all of the Martial Arts world. A veritable who's who of each of the most respected talents in their fields.

Julia Chang. Yoshimitsu. Paul Pheonix and Marshall Law, Nina Williams, lurking in the shadows like the typical assassin she was. The masked Wrestler King and another large man, Craig Marduk. Christie Montiero from Brazil, a well dressed man calling himself Violet. The Super Cop, Lei Wulong.

Hwoarang entered the gathering, flipping the keys to his bike along one finger of his cut off gloves before stuffing them into an overly tight pocket. The Korean surveyed the area. The same old faces, same boring routine. _Why the fuck do I show up to these lame ass things?_ He huffed, rolling his eyes as he made his way to the bar. There was enough ambition and testosterone in this place to choke a horse. To much postering and swaying, to many fighters thinking only they were worth the prize. In Hwoarangs opinion, none of these tournament competitors could hold a candle to his skill or his arrogance.

Ordering a scotch and soda, the Blood Talon leaned his elbows on the bar, facing the crowd. He scanned over the area one last time. Yeah, he was looking for Jin. He had some questions that needed answering and he knew, the Japanese youth would not miss this gathering for all the world. Another glimpse at Heihachi, another reaffirmation of hate. Jin was fractured down to his very essence. Hwoarang knew that like a second nature. The vendetta game was one he had honed to a fucking science, after all.

"Hwoarang Do San?" Came a familiar voice, overtly American. The Blood Talon turned his eyes, framed beneath copper tendrils to find Julia Chang, excitedly waving as she rushed up closer to the Blood Talon. _So much for a quiet fucking night._

The Blood Talon cocked a grin as Julia approached, rushing up and wrapping her arms around him unexpectedly. "Just Hwoarang. Do San was my teacher, not my father, not my last name. Don't know why people just don't fucking get it." He smirked, patting the Native American female on the back. "How the hell you been, Julia?"

She smiled, leaning in to tap the bar with obvious nervous energy. Julia must have still had a wicked crush on him. But then again, didn't everyone? "I have been good, nearly done with my degree in archeology now. Working on this incredible reforestation project, I have to tell you all about it!"

_Just what the world needs, another tree huggin hippie._ "You can save it for another time." Hwoarang said, disinterestedly. "Otherwise, things are good with you?"

"Yeah…you could say that. Hey, I am going to find out if Ling wants to go to the club tonight after this, blow off some pre tournament jitters. Would you like to come with?"

"I might consider making an appearance." He said with a devilish smile that drove the ladies wild. What was it about the bad boy, good girls could not leave alone?

"Um, alright." Julia said with a flush, biting her lip slightly. "Well, I am going to go look for Ling. I guess I will see you later."

The Blood Talon nodded as Julia walked off, catching her turning to look back in his direction with that continual nervous energy. It made him chuckle on the inside to be such a center of attention.

"Arent you quite the attention getter?" Steve said, drawing up slowly, quiet enough that Hwoarangs normally paranoid senses didn't even pick the sneaky Brit up.

"Yeah, you could say that." The Korean smiled as Steve walked up, ordering a drink from the bar. "Took you long enough to get here." He commented, giving the boxer a side long glance.

"I like to be fashionably late. But I see our host has expected that. I thought the party would be in full swing?" He turned to indicate the crowd with a head nod. Steve did not know a single face there, not really an active part of the martial arts scene, surprised in fact a boxer would be found amongst the elite of the circuit. Elite enough to an invite to this tournament, anyway.

"The real party doesn't kick off till after this lame ass shindig." Hwoarang said, leaning into his pocket for a cigarette. Drawing it to his lips as Steve sat on one of the stools provided. There was no smoking in this area, unless at the bar. A perfect positioning for Hwoarang.

"Your unusually short." Steve said, taking a sip of his own rum and coke, observing Hwoarang and his quick answers. There was a heavy atmosphere around the Korean and it was nearly tangible.

"Yeah, well, I have things on my mind." Hwoarang said, inhaling sharply.

"You have him on the mind. You know he will be here." Steve said so blatantly, Hwoarang shot him a narrow glance.

"Fuck him." Hwoarang said with a hiss, lifting his drink to his lips while flicking the ashes of his cigarette, fully entrenched behind the walls of self defense and pride, ego posted as sentry.

Steve was not sure what to truly make of this foul mood the Blood Talon was firmly encased in and it had started with early in the afternoon till, obviously, now. The Brit had tried to initiate desire between the two and for all the Koreans bolstering, the situation had not turned out favorable for reciprocation. Not that Steve had started it with that intent…but after some oral affections, he believed Hwoarang would respond favorably. That had not been the case. Steve knew precisely why. Jin.

Hwoarang turned to crush his cigarette into the clean ashtray as Steve reached in to capture a cylinder from the Koreans pack. As the two came around, almost in unison, a slightly shorter stature Chinese female was waiting, with her head tilted to the side.

"Hello, Hwoarang." Ling said with a smile.

"Midget." the Korean said almost expecting Jins messenger to be there and in that second, it was cold hard fact. It made sense Xiaoyu would precede Jins arrival, much like a Tsunami is preceded by a sickly green sky.

"So, where is he?" Ling said, her gaze cast for a single moment to Steve beside the Blood Talon before returning full attention to Hwoarang.

"Couldn't fucking tell ya." The Korean said with impending fury. Why did it seem everything was a link back to Kazama.

Ling sensed something in Hwoarangs avoidance, a vibe that confirmed her thoughts about Steve. There was no reason the Gaijin should have been standing there, not in the place Jin would be….should be. "Can I talk to you, alone?" She asked with that feminine tone that spoke volumes about the shit he was about to be knee deep in.

"Like I have a choice." The Korean huffed, shrugging his shoulders. This was about to be a lecture the Blood Talon knew he wanted no part of. "Excuse me." He said, half fleeting as he followed Ling out to the main hall.

The area here was quiet, most fighters gathered inside for the kick off celebration. Only the wait staff, preparing for the extravagant buffet was milling about. "So, go on, get it over with." Hwoarang said, lips pursed.

Ling put her hands on her hips. "Now, what makes you think I have something that important to say? Maybe I just wanted to get you away from that pasty faced goon?"

Hwoarang shrugged his shoulders, looking to Ling as he kicked non existent particles from the floor with the heel of his spurred boot. "Look, lets spare us both the bullshit and get to the point. You got something to say, so, say it."

The Chinese beauty placed her hands on her hip. "You sure do have a lot of 'friends', don't you, Hwoarang? Must be nice to fill the void in your bed with a new face every night."

"Well, I have to say, its everything it is cracked up to be." He said out of pure retaliation. Truth being, Steve wanted to share his bed, but for some reason, he could not, at least, not in the way his former lover and recently reignited flame had wanted. Not on the bed he and Jin had first reunited after two long years upon. Not after the revelations that were shared in heavy, moaning breaths.

"You're an asshole." Ling said, crossing her arms across her chest, her foot tapping like a scorned lover.

"I've been called worse." He said with a snicker. Sarcasm to hide delicate emotions.

"I know Jin said some things, jumped to some conclusions pretty fast between the two of you the other day. I have not seen him since then…and he led me to believe he would be near or around you if I wanted to find him. So, I want to find him…and there you are, making eyes at this British guy." She said accusingly, lips pursed with no chance of salvation.

"None of your fucking business." Hwoarang let out, falling back onto one leg, in a comfortable stance, distributing 70 percent of his weight on the dangerous stem to alleviate tension.

"Jin might not say it, but I will. Bullshit." She cursed, her features flared with the effort.

"Whatever." The Korean replied, refusing to meet that gaze.

"Your with that guy, aren't you? Turned your back on Jin and forgotten he even existed?" Ling accused, boring into Hwoarang, even as he shot a glance up to meet her hard fixed eyes.

"You don't know a fucking thing about him or me." The Blood Talon retorted, anger flaring in his voice. That was evidence enough for Ling to prosecute her case.

"I know enough about you, Hwoarang. I am the one who has been trying to remind Jin all about you. And just when I started believing in you…just when I started to think you really gave a damn about Jin…"

"Fuck you." Hwoarang said with a hiss, this time, he met those eyes like a combatant.

"Yeah. I struck a nerve didn't I…but only because its true!" Ling said, rife with venom. She was beside herself, not really thinking Hwoarang could do this, again. "He loves you! Don't you understand that? Even after two years he could not get you out of his system and now, you are giving him away without so much as a thought."

"He fucking rejected me!" The Korean snapped defensively, drawing up to full height, no longer able to distract himself with meager posturing. "You were there, you know its not a line of bullshit. I did what I could but in the end, it just wasn't good enough, now was it?"

"Coward." Ling hissed. "After all you have done to him, how could you?"

"Don't you dare turn this on me you fucking bitch!" He rose to the challenge like an injured beast raising to the threat of another in his territory.

"Jin is not himself, Hwoarang!" Ling growled like a mother cub defending her young from danger all around. "He has been through so much more than he lets on. I know you have seen it, the fracture of his spirit…talking with two mouths..one moment calm, the next raging like a captured animal!" That was the only way she could describe the end of the Japanese youths patience. Jin truly was not the person she recalled him to be.

"That's not my fucking problem." The Korean growled, boring into Lings eyes.

"It should be your problem..but no, not you. Not Mr. Untouchable. You know what you are, Hwoarang? You're a disease…that weakens your victims..till every last one of them is infected…infected…till they die inside. Is that what you want from Jin?"

"I don't fucking want anything from Jin!" He growled, those forces at his defensive wall holding tight to their ground. No order to retreat, no chance of redemption.

"And that's the problem, Hwoarang. By not wanting anything from Jin…you expect nothing…and you push him away like he doesn't matter. He nearly broke in half for you…" Ling said with the most emotion she had shown since this verbal throw down.

"What the fuck about me!" The Korean shouted, his anger inflamed to a new level. How badly he wanted to strike the Chinese youth, send her to the ground before him like a worshipping suppliant. "Don't I fucking factor into your equation? How about how I feel…what about what I went through, thinking he is dead for two years? Do you know what it did to me?" That omission flew past the Blood Talons lips before he had any chance of retaking them and crafting them like metal beneath a sword smiths hands.

"You have a funny way of showing it, don't you?" Ling said, nearly satisfied in her gloating victory over the saucy Korean. "If the roles had been reversed, Jin would have made undying vows to you, never to let you go again. But you are not half the man he is."

Hwoarang winced at that comment, his gaze holding steady to the floor, watching the shine on the expensive marble tile. More than he could ever afford, by honest means, worth more than his own life…whose passing would be recorded with only an epitaph…and a history of blood money.

"Well, think about that, Hwoarang. Think on it real hard." She hissed before turning on her heels and storming off to the double doors from whence they came.

_Disease. Was that what he was? Sucking the life around him dry till only he was left alive and satisfied? In all his rapacious wanderings, is that what he had become…cold and calculating, transparent as glass?_

For someone so demure, Ling had a way with her words that struck to the heart as though each inflection was laced with an arrow aimed directly to the pulsing organ. Had he really let Jin down? Did Jin really love him…like Ling said…?

Jin exited the Limousine and walked to the doors of the hotel, hood drawn sharply over his features. He awaited his father with a strong glance to the street as Kazuya stepped out onto the concrete, dressed impeccably, far more respectable than the Japanese youth that accompanied him.

This was time honored tradition. It had been only two years ago when Jin was at the center of the soiree as host to the King of Iron Fist Tournament 3, backed by the Mishima Financial Empire. In those days, the gathering had been held in honor of Kazuya Mishima…now, the first born blood of Heihachi was his accompaniment.

"Are you ready for this, Jin?" Kazuya asked, adjusting his suit jacket, eyes watching his son from behind dark glasses.

"Yes." Jin answered simply, making sure to hold the glint of his fathers eyes behind dark enshrouding.

"He will try to deceive you, try to weaken you. He will use everything around you to destroy you. Not merely your body, Jin, but your spirit as well." Kazuya said, nodding to his son, speaking truthful warnings from his own time in Jins place, the first to feel the abuses of Mishima Heihachi.

"I understand, father." Jin said respectfully as he reached for the door, holding it open and bowing his head in respect as Kazuya entered. The words that crossed his lips were still cold. Never had he done more than practice what it would be to call someone his father. Now, Jin actually had one.

The room darkened as the fighters took their seats at the dinner tables. Waiters began to unveil the warm, enticing smell of the vast buffet, mouth watering to anxious, hungry stomachs.

Hwoarang returned to his place at the bar, lighting a cigarette as Steve sipped his second drink. A spot light shone on a podium at the front of the hall, drawing eyes to the well lit area. "So, what is all of this?" The Brit asked, chewing on an errant sliver of ice.

"Just the ol' man showing off. Likes to give a little speech before dinner is served and the lists are posted. Smoke and mirrors." Hwoarang said with a snicker, reaching back for his third drink, the private conversation between he and Ling still playing across his thoughts. Right now, he did not want to be there, did not want to be a part of this gathering, too many people choking up all the air in the room. But he knew, if he left now, he would not know the fight schedule for the round of 16 and he would not find Jin, either.

"Going to the club tonight?" Steve said, still not looking at Hwoarang, eyes focused on that lone, still spotlight.

"Thinking about it. Don't know yet. Too soon to tell." The Korean snickered. His mind was obviously preoccupied.

Steve was feeling a little shot down. Not that he expected anything out of the Blood Talon. In their brief two weeks together, over a year ago, both had spent most of the time talking, drinking, walking around streets the Korean had never before seen. The sex had been incredible and so was the intimacy. The Brit had half expected them to pick up where they left off, but it was obvious the Blood Talons mind was only on Jin. He wasn't giving up on recapturing those glorious weeks and he understood this was something Hwoarang had to work through, on his own even if he did want to be there and show his support.

As Steve took in another cube of ice, the movement on the stage caught his eyes. He had barely seen images of Heihachi Mishima before and now, faced with the full on, massive presence, he could not turn his gaze away. The Tournament sponsor was obviously an elder…and yet, his presence was awesome, in physique and in aura. No one Steve had ever known in advanced years looked so strong…could contend with so many energetic and youthful challengers. And yet this man was about to. It was awe inspiring.

"Good evening, honored participants. I am Heihachi Mishima, Former Tournament Competitor Title holder and CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu, a world renowned Conglomerate focused on the financial markets of a growing, global economy. But enough about that. I am here to welcome you as the Creator of the King of Iron Fist Tournament to this, the fourth installment of the sport." A charming and yet powerful tone spoke out amongst the room. It seemed to Steve not a single eye that turned to Heihachi in this dim light, looked on the old man favorably.

Hwoarang turned his eyes from Heihachi and scanned the room once more. No sign of anything out of the ordinary. Lifting his drink, a bright sliver from the back of the room captured the Korean like the glint of money beneath a neon sign. He knew it before he saw the shadows move…knew it was Jin…and the Japanese was not alone.

Heihachi seemed to snicker into the provided microphone at the podium, his eyes drawn to that same sliver of light. "If you are here, then you have been selected as the most prominent talent in your respective Martial Arts today, to compete for an immense prize. Not only the substantial cash prize but also the control of my empire, the Zaibatsu, along with the renown granted by the United Martial Arts and Competitions Federation sanctioned title of 'Worlds Strongest Martial Artist'. You, Ladies and Gentlemen, are the best of the best, the brightest future..and past of the Martial Arts circle. It is with great pleasure I welcome you to the commencement of the King of Iron Fist Tournament."

Hwoarang glanced back at the podium and noticed another had turned, had felt the presence. The one called Violet, a well dressed man from what the Blood Talon could see, indiscernible in age or stature from his far off seated position. Yet, something about Violet was drawn to the figures entering…

Mishima Heihachi smiled now, raising his hands like a furor to the salivating masses. "Eat, drink and be Merry this night, my accomplished colleagues. For the friends you make today may well be your opponents come the morrow. The Round of 16 will begin in the morning. You will find your initial matches posted on the boards in the outside lobby of the hotel, available after this Inauguration ceremony. I wish you all strength and luck. May the gods be with your Tekken. Thank you."

Jin stepped into the back of the room, leaning against the wall, crossing his arms before his chest. Kazuya joined him, watching the familiar scene unfold. The first glance of Heihachi after all these years was like a rage building inside of him and apparently it was the same for Jin, who seemed to breath heavier beside his father, seething with unspoken rage. The younger Mishima sensed the presence of the Devil within Jin…the first time he could nearly smell it and it made the demon from whence the young Kazamas spirit originated twitched with recognition inside of Kazuyas body.

Jin listened to the speech he had heard two years ago, nearly word for word. Sable eyes were glittering with hatred, using every bit of strength to keep his fatal lightning in place…keep the demon within his cage. The cold steel of the gun, the near fatal shot that released from the never ending chamber…the feeling of wings tearing through flesh. It was as familiar as a lover, a hatred so soothing inside of him, it could have been a lullaby.

Beneath all the pomp and circumstance, Jin turned his eyes, feeling the amber orbs that held him. His breath lost itself between his lungs and his lips, blood tingling for more reasons than just hatred. Hwoarang was there, at the bar and his body craved…craved like a junkie.

The Japanese youth noticed Steve beside the Korean and the rage built, heady and fast inside of him. He had never wanted to injure…for no other reason than to show the Blood Talons current fling…where Hwoarang truly belonged. It was a rare and alien concept, the same one that had gripped him in the shower unexpectedly.

"Jin?" Kazuya asked as Heihachi raised his hands up over the guests, signifying the buffet should soon be served, and yet the Elder Mishima looked like a tyrant preaching to the masses. But Jin was not watching Heihachi. Infact, his eyes were drawn to a Korean with flamboyant dyed copper hair…and the rage inside Jin, the devil, was nearly salivating at the sight.

"Yes, Father?" He said, shaking his head slightly and turning his eyes to Kazuya.

"Are you alright?" Kazuya asked but knew otherwise. Jins innocent eyes were tainted. The Japanese youth seemed to know little of his own power, the aura that emanated like waves from his body. One day, they would have to have the talk…about the Devil. But not now, when emotions were obviously running high. Jin could more than likely not control the beast. It had taken Kazuya nearly 20 years to learn to put a leash on the demon and even then, there were times it did not work.

"I am fine." Jin said. Yet another lie. He was slowly growing accustomed to this. He turned his glance back toward Hwoarang, even as he faced his father….but the Blood Talon was lost to his line of sight as the fighters rose for the buffet, led by the American Paul Pheonix. _Where had he gone?_

"The Cubs have come home to the den." Heihachi said, crossing his arms before his chest. Jin had never noticed how much Kazuya looked like his sire. How intense the expressions were, reflected between the two. Both with such hard eyes and a posture that spoke of long nights in training until Kazuya resembled Heihachi in more mannerisms than the younger Mishima would ever agree he possessed.

Jin hardened his jaw, the flash of that bullet released from the chamber, the flash that had heralded the change in his spirit all echoed back at him now. There was hatred, pure and seething in the Japanese youths eyes. Three circles of hell. Three levels of hate that flowed like ice through a stream between three generations of blood.

"Do not waste words old man. They will be short in supply when you gasp your last breath." Kazuya said with such civility it cut the air between them like a hard rain.

"As you have promised before, boy. This time, I will assure there is no chance of salvation." Heihachi too kept a tone so simple and even, a passerby would have thought the two were exchanging pleasantries. His eyes held Kazuyas, a bare white glint behind dark shades. That left eye was reddening like a glare of heat lightning. Yes, the Devil was still within him.

"And you, Jin. I am pleased to see you have returned. We have unfinished business, you and I. A shame to see your father has found you before I could. Trust not the word of the devil, Jin." Heihachi smiled darkly. The gods shone upon him to grant him such a boon, such a perfectly syndicated chance to grasp the Devil Gene. There would be offerings left on the alter of his worship tonight, someday soon to be replaced by the shorn bodies of his own blood, as enemies.

The Devil comment made Jin feel…confused. What precisely did Heihachi mean…or was this once more a game made of words to slide concrete in the center of a stream and divide the forces. "I trust not the forked tongue that promises love and deals out murder."

Heihachi half cocked a maniacal smile. "Then let what has been said, hold like a carving in stone. There will be no rod spared, no hand to shield you from this demon you call a father. The injury he has given to you…and will continue to give to you, I wash my hands of."

"So be it." Jin hissed, his tone much less controlled than his forebears.

Kazuya watched Heihachi walk away, turning his head to follow the old man till he was out of sight. Jin had been impressive in his conviction and the younger Mishima could taste it in the air around him like the familiar swallow of ozone from fatal lightning.

"Now, you are enemies." Kazuya said, releasing his arms that had remained crossed at his chest.

"We have been enemies." Jin said, truthfully. Though he had not yet told his father of what had happened between he and Heihachi in South America, more intent on listening to the story Kazuya told of his love for Kazama Jun and the events surrounding his own, near death. That time would come.

Jin cracked his neck to the side, removing the hood from over his features. It still awed Kazuya how his son could look like the perfect mix of his two parents. A pride he could never truly explain. "That man there, with the purple hair, wearing the white pinstripe suit has been watching you, father."

Kazuya snickered. "Yes. We have a long history, Jin. He has been watching me all of his life. But there will be time for that." He was not fooled by the elaborate disguise the man wore. There was still a slight limp to the mans walk that spoke of horrific tragedy to his legs, long ago, but none that were here, save Lei Wulong might recall it. For the time being, Violets secret was safe with him.

Jin was feeling restless, eyes still scanning over the crowd. He needed to breathe. The scent of food, the feeling of anxiety in the air…the reuniting with both father and grandfather were heavy on his spine like boulders pinning him down. "I must find a moment of peace, father. Excuse me."

"That is well, Jin. I have someone I must speak with as well." Kazuya said, watching the Interpol operative across the way. Someone he needed to thank for a deed done 22 years ago and had been long overdue to be recognized.


	10. The Folding Process

Chapter Nine

The Folding Process

The King of Iron Fist, Round of 16

Nina Williams Vs. Hwoarang

Craig Marduk Vs. Julia Chang

Jin Kazama Vs. Paul Pheonix

Kazuya Mishima Vs.Marshall Law

Violet Vs. Yoshimitsu

KingVs. Ling Xiaoyu

Bryan FuryVs. Lei Wulong

Steve Fox Vs.Christie Montiero

"Where do you think your sneaking off to?" Ling asked with one hand on her hip. The hotel lobby was nearly vacant with all assembled guests and staff in the banquet hall.

"I was just going to get some air." Jin said, pausing and turning to see Ling awaiting his response.

Ling could not imagine what it must have been like for Jin to see Heihachi again after the story the Japanese youth had told she and Hwoarang a few nights ago. "I saw him approach you. Are you okay?" Ling asked, tilting her head to the side. Jin looked so out of sorts, disrupted.

Jin took a long pause, his eyes lowering. "No. I am not okay…I don't know…if I will ever be okay again." That was the most truthful thing he had said in sometime, the words were cathartic.

Ling approached Jin slowly, tipping her glance down to catch his, making him look up as she reached a hand out to touch such a massive arm. "What is it, Jin?"

"I would not know where to begin Ling. I feel lost…in a thick fog. I can not find my feet beneath me, I don't know where I am going or how it is I have come to be here." The pain in his voice made Ling shiver.

"This is not only about Heihachi, is it?" She asked, as Jin looked away. "Hey, Jin. Its me, remember. You can trust me, you can talk to me. You might be lost in the fog but I can try to help you, I can be the lighthouse for you, even if I am not the first choice for that position."

Jin closed his eyes. He felt like metal being folded, steel forced to bend to the shape and will of a design he could not understand. His insides were pressed and stretched by a relentless hand that took great pleasure in forcing him to lose all his previous form, all the memory of natural light now threatened to be replaced with the forges' fire. "My father…Kazuya Mishima, is alive."

"How can that be, Jin? You showed me the clipping of him from the paper…he died in the King of Iron Fist tournament like 20 years ago." Ling asked with disbelief. So, that was the man standing beside the Japanese youth. Though it had been too dark to make out much more than a shape in the shadows.

"Heihachi nearly killed him, threw his body into a volcano that erupted not a moment later. He was found…and used as a..lab experiment to reanimate the tissue. They brought him back to life…and now he is here…and something inside of me feels broken." Jin tried to put it into words, but those words hurt. He made no mention of what Kazuya had told him about his mother, about her fleeing from Tokyo, knowing the truth surrounding his fathers death and Heihachis involvement. His life had been built on lies told to him on the first day he could comprehend words. A lie that kept getting thicker and deeper with each passing year. Jin felt betrayed by everything he had ever known, everyone he had ever trusted.

"I don't know what it is, Ling. But something inside of me…is changing. Something inside of me…wants to get out…wants to release destruction…break apart everything in my path…and its starting with me. I cant hold it back anymore…what is inside me…wants to destroy me."

"Jin." Ling said, her lips parted slightly as heavy breaths drove over the rim of those pink painted petals. She could feel it, the angst that rang out like solar flares from Jins spirit. "I wont let anything hurt you, Jin. Not even yourself."

"You cant help me, Ling. No one can." Jin said, taking a deep breath, trying to center his focus, to hide his own fear…of himself. "It will not end with Heihachi…it has to end with me. The stakes of this game have gotten much larger than I ever thought they could be."

"But you have your father with you now. Together you both can end this hate and start over, remove Heihachi from his place of power and clear the fog." Ling said as Jin pulled away from her touch.

"I don't know why, Ling, but I don't think that will be the end of things." Jin said and turned, his head held down and hands stuffed into the pockets of his training jacket. He had preferred the one that was in tatters now, a painful reminder of the Devil nearly breaking through while he was still with Hwoarang. "I have to go…"

Hwoarang took a breath of fresh, warm air. The smoke filtered out of his lips as one hand pressed itself into an overly tight denim pocket, one knee bent to brace the flat of his boot against the outside wall of the hotel. He was filled to the gullet with aggravation, mostly at himself. Some of it at Jin. When those eyes met him across the way, he started to get that sick feeling again. Not really sure what was going on. Maybe it was heartache. That was, if Hwoarang believed he had a heart.

Everything was compounded by the look in Jins eyes. Every false emotion, every overly protective brick in his wall wanting to shake loose of the mortar and make right the things that were wrong. Somehow, it was like walking through a thick fog, not knowing where you were going, not knowing where you had been. Just surrounded, alone and choking on the thick air.

Through that heavy haze, Hwoarang breathed in smoke, letting copper tendrils caress the wall behind him so his eyes could look out over the cars in the lot, not really seeing anything but the reflection of lights against the windscreens. By now, the shindig would be in full swing and Steve would probably be looking for him soon enough. He liked the Brit and that was the problem. It might have been a nice, intimate and easy distraction from his pain a year ago, but now, it was a burden that made Hwoarang feel split in half.

The Korean was attracted to Steve. They shared a good deal in common when it came to what they believed and how those choices had affected both of their lives…searching for something that never seems to be in your grasp. For Steve, it was his mother and his past, for Hwoarang it was Do San…and it was Jin. Two completely different men that had rocked the Blood Talons world in completely different ways.

Even with that attraction and sense of companionship he could share with Steve in an alternate world, like the dark London streets of yesterday….that did not translate to the unsetting Nippon sun of today. Steve was London…and Jin…was Japan. Caught between both worlds, those spurred boots felt right dug into Tokyo soil, the same way that Korean body felt right pressed into Jin.

"I didn't think you would the one to come looking for me." Hwoarang said, exhaling smoke and not bothering to turn his eyes to the side. He knew the presence, it was the only light in the fog, the shroud that seemed to haze over the world.

"I didn't come looking for you. I am leaving." Jin said, looking past Hwoarang who stood against the wall, braced in juxtaposition.

"We need to talk." It was that simple. But when it came to the two of them, nothing was ever simple.

"I have nothing to say. Not anymore." Jin said in a calm, even tone. He could smell Steve all over the Blood Talons skin and he focused his eyes into vacant expression or else…it might break loose.

"I have some things to say." Hwoarang flicked his ashes, tossing the cigarette butt into the lot with a flick of his thumb and forefinger.

"I think you have used all your words." Jin took a heavy breath. He turned his eyes and that gaze was locked in amber. Those beautiful Korean eyes were like a tea colored pool of natural rocks, magnetic to swim in but jagged and dangerous all at the same time. Someone else had invaded that pristine water, felt the lapping warm waves filled with sunlight. And it was no longer pure.

"No. I haven't, Jin." He said in a tone so soft it was held aloft by the slight warm breeze. It hung there for a moment before fading off into the unseen current.

The Japanese youth could not break the hold of those eyes, nor the bile in the back of his throat at picturing Steve entwined with his Seung. The taste of ozone lit the air….and Jin leaned in, moving in slow motion.

Soft, firm hands touched the Blood Talons forearms, connecting skin to skin as Jin leaned his body against Hwoarangs. He heard that hard gasp, the smell of singed hair, the wincing of those perfect almond amber eyes. The electric current hurt but Hwoarang never made a sound. Jins love hurt…

Dark eyes lowered as Jin breathed in Hwoarangs breath, tasting nothing there but nicotine and sweet rum. None had touched these lips, not tonight anyway. The Japanese youth felt the shiver in his spine as Hwoarangs body tightened, feeling the tongue of the lightning burn just as Jins slick muscle entwined against his lovers.

Hwoarangs eyes closed tightly as his lips parted for every twining sensation, the fog lifted and only the haze of pain and pleasure remained, each vying for first place. He deserved the hurt…and that current, that dangerous current gave the Blood Talons heart, its first real pulse. Jins kiss…was like saying goodbye, like letting him go.

The Korean leaned heavier into that perfect mouth, giving a fire to Jins kiss that spoke volumes with each slick brush. Hwoarang wasn't giving up, would breath life into Jin…would save his drowning lover….

It was all too much. Emotion was so heavy, the current so sharp, Hwoarang was forced to break his lips away with an anguished hiss. "It hurts." He managed and felt Jin withdraw his hands and his body. _What hurt more, the lightning or the thunderclap of his newly charged Korean heart?_

"I know." Jins said, looking down at Hwoarangs arms. The current had eaten into the Blood Talons skin like a hungry, forked tongue. He was bleeding in thin rivulets that started below each elbow and down the forearm, collecting at the tips of his fingers.

Hwoarang looked down at his arms and then back to Jin. The Japanese youth wore his blood on his palms.

"Jin, don't let go." _Of me. Of this. Of us. Of yourself. _The Korean said, his lips burning as the beacon of his lovers light was drowning out in that newly descending fog. Hwoarang felt alone…because Jin felt alone.

"I have to. Because I will hurt you if I don't." _Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Demonically._

This was not just about Steve. That fracture in Jins spirit was growing into a chasm. Something more was threatening to push his lover over the proverbial edge. The words were there but Hwoarang could not say them. Didn't want them used as a way to lasso Jin from the edge. And, what if Jin didn't return it anymore? That kiss felt like it was meant to change everything, to close doors and build walls were there had been rivers and fresh earth.

The Japanese youth pressed his bloody hands back into the pockets of his jacket and walked past the shivering Blood Talon. He did not look back even as he felt Hwoarangs eyes following him into the night. He needed clarity. He needed calm. Jin needed to walk until he could meet himself on the street and decipher pleasantries from subtleties…devil from man.

"There you are." Steve said, running a hand back through sweat glistened white blonde locks. He had changed into jeans and a Hawaiian shirt, the obnoxious pattern heightened by the swirling strobes around them. "I couldn't find you after the gathering. Did you get a look at the lists?"

Hwoarang settled at the bar, ordering a drink. "Yeah, sorry about that. I needed some time to clear my head. So, now its time to get shit faced. And yeah, I did see the lists. Gonna prove to be interesting."

Steve leaned in to grasp his beer, brushing Hwoarangs arm. "Why is your arm..wait, both of your arms bandaged up?" White cling tape wound like a snake from wrist to forearm on both sides.

"Cut myself on some glass." Now, that was a cheap lie. Hwoarang had not even bothered to put any feeling into making it even half believable. "I took care of it." He smiled. "So, where is the rest of the group, Ling and Julia show up?"

"Yeah, they are out there dancing. I had to catch some breath. That girl Julia is quite the looker. You and she have a history?" Steve asked with a sly smile.

"Not too much of one but we tried to lay the foundation..or should I say, I tried to lay the foundation." Hwoarang still felt the heavy presence of Jin around him but he was trying to shake it off. Being around people right now seemed the best way. "Thinking about it?"

"Yeah, definitely. But I am still thinking about you more." Steve said, brushing his fingers across Hwoarangs neck in a light, butterfly caress. "You want to get out of here, go back to the hotel? I have a room there."

The idea was tempting. But Steve wasn't who he wanted to be with right now. And somehow, the Blood Talon doubted hot, drunken sex with the boxer wasn't going to do more than give him a bigger problem in the morning. "Not tonight. I have a headache."

"You never used to suffer from headaches." Steve said with a slight sneer. "Look, if your not into me, just come out and say it so I don't have to sit around and wonder if this is going to happen."

"Get your rocks off with Julia and come back around when you have this whiny shit out of your system. Then, I will fuck you blind." Hwoarang said with that arrogant sneer of his own.

"Last time, it wasn't me who was fucked blind. You couldn't see straight for a full day after that." Steve replied with a sigh. It wasn't intended as a slight, no time spent on top or on bottom with Hwoarang was ever a slight.

That made the Blood Talon laugh. "Yeah, well, that was a year ago. You can say I have been purified since then. I don't catch, I pitch." Jin had baptized Hwoarang in that shower. Even if he never spent another night with the Japanese youth, his occasional weakness of the knees was over. If it wasn't Jin, it wasn't docking in his harbor.

Steve shook his head, lifting one of the Koreans cigarettes from the bartop. "Hwoarang. I really like you."

"Yeah, I really like me to." The Blood Talon snickered, trying to stop Steve from going any further with this line.

"Close that bloody trap for a moment and let me say what I want to say." Steve said with a sharp inhale, not giving Hwoarang a chance to say another word, he continued. "I know you have some things to deal with as far as Jin. I am not blind to what is going on. I don't want to complicate things so I am going to cool it for awhile. When you come around, and I hope you come around, lets rub some sticks together and make fire. Fair enough?"

Hwoarang laughed. Interesting words. "Yeah. Fair enough." That's the reason the Blood Talon liked Steve. Attractive, witty and compassionate in all the ways he was not. If Jin was not so heavily on his mind, he would have taken that hot bastard then and there and let every last bit of angst out. Maybe soon, maybe never.

"Im going to catch up with those two although, they do look hot sweating and dancing with each other. Think they might go for alittle girl on girl?" Steve laughed, rubbing his chin.

"If they do, call me." The Blood Talon laughed, slapping Steve on the upper arm. He hated to admit it but as much as he hated to see the Brit go, he loved watching that hot body walk away.

As Steve drew out onto the dance floor, Ling was walking off, eliciting raised hands from the boxer in a "what the fuck" gesture. His hopes were dashed but only for a moment.

"So, you finally showed up." Ling said, her long dark hair unbound and clinging with sweat soaked tendrils against an angular cheek. "I went looking for you at the gathering but you were already gone and Steve had no idea where you were. Hope you don't mind the fact we stole him."

"Like I give a shit?" He snickered, raising his drink to his lips. Ling took the glass out of his hand and downed it in one, quick shot. "What the fuck!" He hissed, recapturing the empty glass and tilting it over. Not a drop left.

"Gotta keep up or get out of the way." She smiled and leaned in. "I think we need to talk, Hwoarang. Lets get out of here."

"What the fuck, am I dear abby? Why does it seem like everyone wants me to flap my gums tonight?" He sighed. Not another talk. He could not take another verbal lashing from Ling, not after what had happened tonight with Jin.

"What happened to your arms?" she asked, raising one of the Blood Talons hands as though trying to see through the wound cling gauze.

"Struck by lightning." He said, withdrawing her grasp from his hand. He rose and reclaimed his pack of smokes, tucking them into a tight pocket. "Lets go." He said, already walking without looking back. If Ling didn't catch up, she would blow the pony express ride to talk town.

"Don't smoke tonight." Ling said with a sigh, her legs folded beneath her on the familiar leather couch. "I need you to be clear in your thoughts when I speak to you."

"If you want me to be clear in my thoughts, then I have to smoke." The Blood Talon said, inhaling the herbal smoke., sitting cross legged on the couch near the end table. Defiance should have been his middle name.

Ling sighed and took a sip of whiskey, finding the bite of it unpleasant but the warmth of it, comforting. Hwoarang actually had pretty good, pretty expensive tastes. "Why is everything a battle of wills with you?"

The Korean exhaled and tapped the ashes into the receptacle held atop a firm thigh. "Because I only entertain things that are worth fighting for, Midget. Thought you would have known that by now."

"Yeah, I guess I already did." Ling inhaled a sharp breath, turning her head to study Hwoarang. "So, you saw Jin tonight then. I am guessing when you said you were struck by lightning you weren't being metaphorical about it. What did he say?"

"Its not what he said, its just…what I felt. I think Jin is slipping away from us. I think Jin is falling apart." He said, leaning his head back. "So, lets move it along, Ling. What do you have to say?"

Always right to the point with Hwoarang. "Did you see anyone with Jin tonight, in the back of the banquet hall, besides Heihachi?"

"Yeah. I saw someone there, but it was dark, didn't get too good of a look. Maybe he has himself a new toy to play with." The Korean snickered, lifting the joint to his lips.

"That was his father. Mishima Kazuya." Ling said, not pulling any punches.

Hwoarang narrowed his eyes, furrowing his brow. "Jins father is dead. Don't ask me how I know that, I don't reveal my sources. So, you must be mistaken, midget."

"No, I am not. Jin told it to me himself. Heihachi had nearly killed Kazuya…but somehow he was reclaimed and taken somewhere and…reanimated. I recall Jin telling me about his father before, but only what he knew from his mother…and I think his mother, Kazama Jun…lied. Maybe to keep him safe, maybe because she did not want to say the truth…but…"

"..Jins whole world is built on lies." Hwoarang said, picking up Lings train of thought. "After Heihachi trying to blow his head off two years ago, now he has to deal with the fact his own mother was bullshitting him. Talk about a mindfuck." The Korean groaned, feeling a hot twinge of pain at that idea. He had never known his own father, nothing more than he recalled his mother telling him before she disappeared. Some American GI stationed in Pusan…who gave that promise to come back for her…if only he could solidify the unquenchable love he had…in carnal contract.

"Jin is scared, Hwoarang. He told it to me…he feels like something inside of him is trying to destroy him. I don't know if he has lost his mind or if he is really telling the truth. I don't know what to do." Ling bit the edge of her lip, nervously before lifting the rim of the glass to her lips.

"Like I fucking know? Shit, I am like the blind leading the blind?" Hwoarang shifted his shoulders. Quick wit was a cover for fears of his own. That explained why Jin felt so…distant and yet…so needing of him.

"Well, you have to know something we can do. I mean, you and him…well, you know." She said with a flush to her features.

Hwoarang did not want to admit…that when it came to Jins life, all he knew could be summed up in a paragraph. He felt suddenly and painfully aware that the one person who had restarted his heart, was one person he truly did not know. "You cant go by sex alone, Ling. Jin..doesn't…well, we really don't…you know. Get personal like that."

Lings eyes widened. "Damn it, Hwoarang! You mean to tell me, you have no idea of anything about Jin…"

"I know he likes it hard and fast…I know he loves it the way I give it to him." Hwoarang said with a snicker. Lings eyes bore into him like a surgical tool. She could see right through this…and the Korean knew it. "Fuck, Ling. I don't know…I don't know how to answer you. Alright, I admit it…we don't talk about those kinds of things. We don't talk about anything really." Sore spot. Very sore spot.

"Something is happening inside of Jin, Hwoarang. There has to be a way to stop it!" She cried out in exasperation. The one person she needed to count on to get through to Jin…didn't even know him.

"Yeah. I know." He said, reaching into the stand beside the couch. He withdrew a single black feather, stuck in there the day before so he would not lose it. He leaned on his knees and handed it over to Ling, his eyes holding it possessively.

"I found this on the floor the other night when Jin came here…and I was hanging out and drinking with Steve. Its exactly like the one I found two years ago. Cant be a coincidence."

"What does a large bird have to do with any of this! God, you are so fucking abstract! Focus!" Ling said with a hiss, handing the feather back to a greedy, outreaching hand.

"It has something to do with this…with Jin. I don't know what…shit, he could be ripping ravens apart for all I fucking know…but I remember, through a drunken haze…that I felt sick right before I found it. And there are these times, Ling…when his mood changes…and I feel that wave of sick take me over. I can even taste blood in my mouth..and its not my blood. Its Jins blood." Now, the Blood Talons eyes were wide as he let the secrets he harbored out.

"You are losing your mind just the same as he." She huffed. "Come on, be serious. When the hell would you have tasted Jins blood.?"

"A few times, when I think about it. I am sure I got a lick of it during that fight in the back alley of Korea, three years ago. We were both bleeding pretty heavily. Sweat and other fluids fly when your going that hard at each other. And then, the first night we ever, you know, he bit his lip…and it bled..but that wasn't stopping me from tasting that mouth…I wasn't worried about disease, pure as he was. And this other time, my teeth broke his skin…"

"Alright, alright. Enough." Ling said, scrunching her eyes closed and downing what remained of the whiskey. "You know, that's disgusting. Next thing you are going to tell me is that you don't use…protection."

"Shit, I use it all the time. Unless I am with him. Its different when I am with him…" Hwoarang said with a sigh. "But back to the subject, that blood I taste is his…and I don't know why…I don't know why I feel sick when he gets into those little dark moods of his…and why these fucking feathers keep showing up."

Ling shook her head, not seeing the correlation. "Lets get off the abstract, alright?"

"I feel so truthful about this Ling, that I had a fucking feather done in ink on my back…it reminded me of him..something I wanted to keep with me…when I thought he was dead." Hwoarang was truthful now, drawing in a heavy cloud of smoke, letting its cloy affect wash over him.

"Hwoarang. Please. Stop this nonsense and get back to the topic. We have to help Jin. He needs us…he needs you." Ling said with frustration.

"I don't think he needs me, Ling. He kissed me tonight…and when he did, it felt like goodbye." The Blood Talon said with a heavy sigh, hating to admit that outloud.

"If he doesn't have you, Hwoarang…then he has no anchor to cling to. He wont listen to me, not like this…you're the only chance Jin has of fighting this thing off. Why didn't you just make him listen?"

"Because he wont listen to me! Fuck, there it is, out in the open. He doesn't give a shit anymore, Ling. He is beyond any help you can give him and he sure as shit doesn't want it from me." He let out a roar.

"Well, maybe that would not be the case if you weren't fucking Steve Fox! You had his love and you threw it away for that tart. Really, Hwoarang, did you wait a whole hour out of respect for Jin or did you jump in the bed the same moment we left?" She drew her legs over the couch, ready to stand up and face the Blood Talon, head on.

"I am not fucking Steve Fox!" He hissed. "I wanted to..but I couldn't. Alright, go ahead, make fun of it." The Korean drew his legs from the crossed position, leaning over his knees in an aggressive posture.

"Why couldn't you, Hwoarang? Why couldn't you seal the deal with Steve?" She pushed his buttons and she knew it.

"Because I fucking couldn't, alright?" Hwoarang drew up to full height, taking a hard pull of the weed, not finding the effects he wanted from the herbal cigarette.

"But why? Jin sure as hell thinks you are with him…everywhere you go, Steve is like your shadow. Even I am having a hard time believing you haven't whored yourself off to a new conquest." She watched the Korean start to pace, one hand raising and trying to swat away the comments that drove out of her lips.

"Do you get some kind of sadistic pleasure at putting me on trial? I cant do a fucking thing right by you, for him, can I?" He hissed, feeling open and vulnerable now. Jin meant more to him then he wanted to admit to someone, especially now when the threat of the Japanese youth walking away had been a real one. He had to acknowledge he didn't know the first thing about his lover…had never taken the time to argue or talk, to push Jins buttons in this way. And equally, Jin knew nothing about him…about his life and why he was the way he was.

"Jin is in trouble, Hwoarang. I can not be the only one standing in the way of self destruction. Lay it on the line, why aren't you fucking Steve Fox?"

Hwoarang was nearly beside himself, animated in a completely different way than Ling had ever seen him before. "Because I fucking love him, alright? Is that what you want to hear? Well, there, you heard it. I fucking love Jin…and it hit me tonight just how god damn much I do."

Of all the things Hwoarang could have said, this was not what she thought would come out of those tainted lips. "You do! That's…wow…a revelation."

"Yeah, don't go spreading it around." The Korean said with a half smile. Those words had manifested itself out of agony…but they were true. The truest words he might have ever said…and the most frightening to admit to himself…and another person. What was most frightening was the ease in which the sentiment had formed, like a dam releasing the pressure and sending a flood out into dry land.

"That is why Jin keeps coming to you, Hwoarang. Don't you see it? You're the only one…that can love him that way…and you do…and that will be what saves him! Oh! I knew I could count on you!" She rose and rushed toward Hwoarang, embracing the hot headed rogue with pure happiness.

"Whoa, ease up there, Midget." He laughed. It felt good to laugh. It felt good to love…and admit to himself that the emotion existed. It might create more pain than anything else…but at least someone knew…at least, he knew.

Ling released Hwoarang with a smile, taking the half burnt down joint from his fingers and inhaling thickly. "Well now, it seems the nature of the game has changed."


	11. The Metal Hardens

Chapter Ten

The Metal Hardens

The knock came late into the night, rousing Hwoarang from a half smoke induced sleep. Ling had left sometime ago, giving the Blood Talon nothing but time to think on his revelations and the impact it would have on his life, his soul. Even Chang was at a loss, after several hours of phoning. His best friend, the only one besides Ling to be privileged to the knowledge of his relationship with Jin always saw to the heart of him, even through business and designs for the street gang. It was comforting to think someone out there really understood him.

Now, he flipped on the light and shook his head clear of the herbal fog, listening as the knock fell again. "Who the fuck?" He hissed rushing his fingers through his errant copper tendrils as he rose to answer the call.

As the portal parted, Jin was standing there, head down, not strong enough to raise his eyes and meet the amber gaze that held him. He had been walking through the night, trying to meet himself in the haze of thoughts, trying to clear away this impending sense of fate that would not let him rest. That is how he came to Hwoarangs door…as he did two years before at the third installment of the King of Iron Fist tournament. He had been seeking escape then, as he sought it now.

Hwoarang stepped aside as Jin finally looked up, tired and careworn with such a heavy burden on those strong shoulders. The Japanese beauty said nothing as he entered, hearing the click of the lock behind him. He slowly unzipped his jacket as he drew toward the leather couch, tossing the material, not caring where it fell.

"Jin?" Hwoarang said, holding those tormented sable depths. He read that gaze, the feeling in his gut he was learning to listen to.

The Japanese youth said nothing as he removed the t shirt he had been wearing beneath the jacket, letting it free of his grasp onto the floor. He didn't have to say a word. Hwoarang knew…the Blood Talon understood why he was here, what he needed. An anchor to help him port in the storm, a beacon to guide him through the fog…an anguish that would set him free, help him ground himself…before he crashed onto the jagged rocks.

Jin stepped into the bedroom and Hwoarang held his gaze down at the abandoned shirt before following the Japanese youth. There was no need for light, what sliver of the moon outside of the Koreans window gave enough luminescence to see what he needed to see.

Jin was naked, sitting on the edge of the bed, dark eyes turned up to hold the Blood Talons entry. Hwoarang drew toward his lover, one hand resting on Jins shoulder before letting itself taste that curved spine. Fingers reached up, unbuttoning the overly tight jeans as that warm, soft mouth pressed against a perfectly taut torso. It was bliss, the sensation of those warm, feathery kisses to his skin…one hand found its way to the Japanese beautys thick mane, entwining the ebony tendrils as a soft sigh left the Koreans lips. The soft sensation lasted only a moment before Hwoarang found himself stepping out of his jeans, firm hands at his hips, drawing his already swollen length into a hot, welcoming mouth.

Hwoarang moaned, head tilting back as he felt that delicious slick muscle wind like a top around every quivering inch. Hot succor to replace the cool sensation of that rich teasing motion…greedy hands pulling the Blood Talons hips closer, making that delicious length side down a thirsty throat.

Jins fingers wound around the tightening sac between Hwoarangs thighs, cupping the jewels for a long appraising moment, as though nothing more precious had ever crossed his palm.

The Koreans hand slipped up from Jins back to lift that angular chin, lowering himself down to taste those parted lips. He felt his beauty open for him, eager and ready to dance those slick muscles together, hungry for the taste as though Jin had been starving.

Hwoarang moaned past those silk petals, feeling the dance of tongues heat his skin, his senses alive till he could taste Jins need between them. It was surrender…on both sides, desire so thick and heavy it weighed against burning flesh, growing more intense with each hot lap Jin pressed against the Blood Talons mouth.

Jin slowly rose, grasping Hwoarangs body to help bring him upright, pressing his skin to the Blood Talons like a willing sacrifice on the alter. He could feel his aching desire against a sharp pelvic bone…the saliva slick shaft that brushed his skin, resting with the crown against his torso.

"Please." Jin said in a soft whisper, breaking the kiss, eyes heavy lidded in desire. It was the only word he could bring himself to say as panting breath left those already swollen lips. He needed to feel possessed, safe…free from his agony with the promise of what Hwoarang could give to him. It was a submission so pure, so complete, Jin swore he could not live without it.

"Alright." Hwoarang said, wanting to say so much more. Jin drew onto the bed, bringing himself down on all fours, head bowed toward the coverlet as he felt the Blood Talons hands spread him open.

Hwoarangs tongue found its way down such an enticing cleft to the ring of muscle that awaited him. He drank in the musky scent of his lovers core. He had lubricant now, had taken the time to buy it…but something that artificial would never touch Jin. This was more intimate, to taste his lover there, to slick the portal for the entrance soon to come. Jins scent was perfume to his senses, intoxicating and heavy…and he could taste the desperation, the need in his lover like a Lion telling the direction of elusive, wounded prey in the wind. That warm, whet mouth enveloped Jins entrance, tongue parting the velvet walls. Nothing was as sweet, as satisfying to Hwoarangs senses…and his need was like a double edged blade…

Hwoarang lifted his lips slowly, holding Jin open to him as he pressed his hips upward, the sharp of his sword pressing with perfect aim at the target. His hands left those firm globes, one resting on Jins back, the other at his lovers hip.

With a soft long breath, Jin felt Hwoarang press into him, sheath himself in the warm slick depths that pleaded to be filled. He cried out softly at the first stab of pain their joining always brought…a dark need fulfilled in a single moment of time. Everything he needed, the Korean beauty gave to him…with an inner knowledge that would have been frightening if Jin took the time to think about it.

"Jin-Kun" Hwoarang hissed, feeling those velvet walls swallow him whole, clench around him as though it was salvation itself. He kept himself there, still and aching till he felt the give of those muscles tell him he could move.

Jin cried out again, his lips releasing a need only his lover could understand. He felt the Blood Talon move inside of him, spiral against his walls and pressure the hot treasure inside of that tensed body. "Hwoarang!"

The Blood Talon grasped Jin by the waist with both hands, forcing the Japanese beauty to rise to his knees and press his back against the wall of the Koreans torso, their joining so much deeper now, pressing that eager crown up at an angle into Jins body.

The Japanese beauty grasped the hands about his waist and let his head fall back on Hwoarangs shoulder. The soft gauze that met him made him wince.

"Seung." The Korean whispered against the shell of Jins ear. Reminding his lover that the name of the game had changed, reinforcing it with the torment of stillness. "Do not forget the name I have burned into your body, Jin."

Jin was at the edge of tears, his body quivering as Hwoarang held him so tightly, so closely. "Seung." he choked out, entwining his fingers through the Koreans. "Please." he begged, not giving a damn anymore about the play of dominance and submission, the will to fight had long left him.

"Please what, Jin-Kun…" Hwoarang whispered as his lips fastened against the skin of his lovers neck, at the join of the shoulder. His teeth grazed the heated flesh.

"Take it away from me." Jin cried out…and for a moment, Hwoarang thought he could taste tears in those words.

"Take what away from you, baby?" He asked, but he already knew the answer.

"The pain." Jin whispered, their bodies no longer separated by a wall of clothing, a wall of protection from each other…but made one. Made whole. "Take it away from me…and give me…what I need. Please."

Hwoarang was finding it difficult to remain still for much longer. Those walls were clenching around him, trying to push the obtrusive length from Jins body. "Tell me..what you need, Jin-Kun…"

"Love me…because your love hurts me. It makes me real, Seung. Do not make me beg again…not tonight." Jin said, his head falling downward though Hwoarang kept his body too tight to flee. Jin was crying.

The Blood Talon felt his throat clench, his eyes closing tightly against Jins skin. He did love him….loved Jin in a way he swore he had never…and would never love another…but his Japanese beauty needed this…and if in no other way, he would not leave Jin unsatisfied.

Hwoarang sent the first, heavy thrust into that gripping core, making Jin lose his breath at the sensation. It was agony…and ecstasy rolled into a simple, easy movement. Jins fingers twisted around the Koreans but never losing grasp. Not even when Hwoarang released Jins body, did the Japanese youth let go, bringing the Blood Talon into a hasty posture to remain half upright. Their connection of hands was intimate…and Hwoarang could not give Jin what he needed, not in this position.

The Korean withdrew slowly as Jin let free a growl of frustration. "Roll over, onto your back, baby."

Jins fingers never left his as his lover moved, legs spread open and bent until he felt the heat of Hwoarangs flesh nestle between his thighs. Two hands entwined now as the Blood Talon pressed Jins arms into the mattress.

He thrust into that welcoming heat with a fast, fevered pace, a mewl of anguish rolling past Jins lips. What lubrication had been present was dry now…making entry a second time more painful…and precise to what his lover desired.

For a long moment there was nothing but heated breaths exchanging, intermingling. Jin rocked in heavy counterthrust to the agony, pressuring his nails into the Koreans knuckles. "More…Seung" He shivered.

The Blood Talon took those parted lips with his own, shaking when he felt the brush of Jins tongue, the salt of his lovers tears reach the corners of his lips. He pressed deeper into Jins body, arching at a sharp angle as ankles wrapped around his back, crossed and drawing the Korean deeper in.

Hwoarang thrust with punishing speed, feeling the hot leak of Jin crown against his torso. Each motion pressed the muscles of his torso against the rigid flesh as the bed bounced back against him. The pace was crushing bordering on punishing. Each heavy moan that pressed from the corners of Jins mouth was a cool drink to Hwoarangs spirit.

The Korean ripped his lips from Jins, looking down into the moonlit shine of his lovers shimmering eyes. Nothing had ever been so beautiful..and in that beauty was an agony…a burden so heavy, Hwoarang felt pressured beneath it.

"Seung!" Jin cried out, his lips free of entanglement, his body heaving in response to every painful, agonizing thrust. He felt himself nearly torn in two…and in that sensation was a freedom he could never know without it. "More! Please…"

Hwoarang pressed Jins hands deeper into the bed, arching himself to a nearly upright position, sending his length pistoning inside of his lovers body. The copper scent of blood filled his senses. Any more and he would hurt his lover in a way he never had before…

One hand freed itself from Jins fingers, grasping the back of the Japanese beautys neck and drawing it upward. He buried his lips in that skin and bit down to stifle his own cries, already growing so close. Jin knew what to do, coning his fingers around his own length and stroking in time with every thrust, spine tilted upright as he felt sharp teeth against his neck. "Seung…baka…" He managed in a whimper, rocked into oblivion as he thumbed cruelly over the rosy, pleading crown that slicked beneath every touch.

If it was Jins blood that made him feel his lover deep inside, Hwoarang would drink every last drop. He felt the skin give way like butter beneath a hot knife…and his mouth was overrun with the copper tang of it. Hot suction of his lips drew the essence into his senses, taking Jins blood into his body…

The Koreans thrusts hit deep inside of Jin as the heavy sent of ozone began to fill the air between two bodies. "Control it." Hwoarang hissed, lifting his lips long enough to let the words free before returning to the crisp taste of blood at Jins shoulder.

Jin closed his eyes, ripe in the throes of passion. The fatal lightning sparked but dissipated…as he gave himself up, open to each punishing blow inside of his core. "Seung…" He let free as Hwoarang released his lips once more…looking deep into Jins eyes as one hand freed itself and took over the length his lover so furiously pumped.

"Not yet…." Hwoarang hissed, his lips red with blood. He arched against Jins body, pressing himself deep, crown bruising the buried treasure deep inside his lovers core. The agony was tangible, as was the pleasure…and the Blood Talon let himself release hot lava against Jins prostate, overwhelming the Japanese beauty with the dark flash of pleasure.

Hwoarang felt Jin milk him as he released the pulsing vein along the underside of his lovers length. His desire left Jins body as his lips covered over the rosy crown that pleaded for freedom. He gave hot suck, stroking that thick length into his lips.

"Seung!" Jin cried out in a rhythmic explosion, his hips propelling his shaft deeper into the Blood Talons mouth. Heavy bands of seed left him, swallowed into the constricting muscles that milked him.

Hwoarang did not stop until every last drop was swallowed into his senses, mixing slick with blood until he was heavy with it. He lifted tainted lips and licked them clean before taking Jins mouth, tasting sweat and tears mingle in that hot kiss, mingling with blood and lust…until the cocktail between them was tainted with a sin so deep it could never be cleansed.

The Blood Talon lifted up slowly, his free hand raising and brushing across Jins sweat soaked forehead. There were no words to say, no exchanges to be made. Only sable and amber locked into a single fire, a single moment that left two separate bodies shivering and weak against each other.

Jin sat at the edge of the bed as Hwoarang slept beside him, careful to remove the arm that draped over his shoulder. His body was sore and dehydrated, every sensation mingling in the fire of coming dawn. How peaceful the Blood Talon looked, kissed by the dawns rays…it made the Japanese youth want to wake his lover from such a sound embrace and declare every thought that went through his mind.

The pressure was alleviated now, broken like a dam beneath every painful thrust. It was the only thing that kept him sane, kept him alert. And even now, Jin could have professed a love that would have changed his life…if he did not fear what such a thing would tear him apart.

He rose slowly, making a concerted effort not to wake his sleeping lover. The scent of their lust still permeated the room, sinking into the sheets, giving Steve something to scent the next time the boxer found himself entwined in the linens.

Jin stepped out of the bedroom and gathered his clothing, dressing quickly to hide the shame in his need. He gave a long look back through the apartment as he closed the door behind him and stepped out into the dawn.

Jin found his way to his motel room, tired and aching, still unsure about anything but his aim to find sleep. When he opened the door, someone was waiting for him.

"I followed you to his home." Came the soft words that awoke Jins mind from reverie.

"You followed me?" was all Jin could manage as he closed the door behind him, coming to sit before Kazuya, who rested in a worn down chair.

"Yes. I followed your scent late into the night…until it changed. I know what it is you have done, Jin." Kazuya said with stone set eyes, partial and judgmental.

"I have done nothing!" Jin retorted sharply with guilt. Why would his father follow him…

"Nothing but found comfort in the arms of your lover. At first, I thought the angst you expressed at the gathering was one of disgust, of rivalry toward the Korean. But I see where that feeling truly translates..and it is to the arms of another male…to taint your flesh in such an unspeakable way."

Jin was wide eyed, searching Kazuyas eyes. "I do not make apologies for who I am."

"You should try…" the Younger Mishima hissed, hardening his jaw. "This is not the path I would have chosen for you, nor the path your mother would have allowed. It is disgusting to have another of your gender above you in the bed you share…to taste from the flesh of a beast that bears two backs."

"I love him. I have loved him and will always love him, no matter the cost to me." Jin hissed in vengeance and defiance. It had been so long since he admitted the truth to himself that it was painful to hear…but still incredibly accurate. Even if Hwoarang did not love him back.

"And it will cost you, more than you could know." Kazuya said with a dark hiss. "I thought it might have been the blackness that lives within you, seeking such a dark pleasure. But then, I could taste it was not him, but you." That left eye began to glow. "You wear the scent of his release all around you…with pride."

Jin stood, looking to his father. "Do not mock who I am, father. Though it may not be your lifestyle, he is the one I chose…I will not forsake him, in body or in being. Nothing you say will change my course…"

"Nothing, Jin? I would not be so sure about that." Kazuya rose, shedding his elegant nature for a darker, more comfortable fit. "You would be a fool to think you could love this wretch, this Korean street rat…to sully the respect of your parents in the name of this disgusting..habit. You may claim to love, but the devil only knows hate. Yes, Jin. I see that look in your eyes." Kazuya removed his sun glasses, facing off against Jin, his left eye glittering.

"What did you say?" The Japanese youth hissed, his body going rigid, no longer tense in defiance but wound like steel at this forthcoming revelation.

"You squander the gifts you have been given to warm the sheets beneath you…your back was made to support the weight of your wings…not the pressure of your lover, forcing you down upon it."

"How do you know about..this?" Jin could feel the rage like bile building inside of him, untrusting eyes holding Kazuyas. He knew, somehow, what the answer was…but he could not fathom to say it.

"Because I am your father…and I am also the Devil." Kazuya said as plain as though he could have been speaking of global current events. "You are my son in more than just flesh, Jin. Our bond is deeper because you carry the other half of my curse."

"It can not be." But it was. Jin wanted to back away, to flee and find safety. But there was no safety, no running from his self, his truth. "That is how you live…that is why you are not dead."

"Yes, Jin. Very astute." Kazuya half smiled. Jin could feel the Devil looking at him from that tainted glowing left eye. It made him feel…nauseas.

"And my mother…did she know…of your curse?" He asked, his voice shaking.

"She did. But not until after you were already growing in her belly. There was hope this would pass you, or so she believed…but in her heart, she knew better." Kazuya did not bother trying to lie to Jin. It was obvious the boy had been fooled enough in his 21 years. Perhaps that was the reason his son found the comfort in the arms of another man…there was no illusion with that. Disgusting as it was. "So you see, Jin. You can never truly love…to love, one must know your secrets…and to know your secrets will reign down death. This lifestyle, this affair, these delusions of love are a filth to be cleansed…and you will stop them now and never again follow that path."

Jin hardened his eyes, feeling his rage build at the judgment passed on him…at the realization his curse was given to him, not something that came as punishment. Respect turned to hatred. "Would you be saying that…if my lover was a woman, you bastard?"

Kazuya narrowed his eyes. "You will watch your tone to me, Kazama Jin. You tread a dangerous ground to turn blood into venom." Things were turning volatile, quickly. Why did the devil inside of Jin not show himself as the emotions escalated?

/_Because you fool, his Kazama blood gives him strength of spirit, unlike you. She balances his darkness in the memory of her genetics, even now that bitch stands between what we want. Of all the worthless vessels in Japan to spill seed into, you had to pick that one../_/

Jin could feel the Devil slaking beneath his fathers flesh and it made the hairs on his body rise like the charge of lightning in the air. "Get out of my room." He hissed, letting his leg fall back into a shotokan karate stance.

/_If we are to take what belongs to us, we will take what belongs to him first. Let us waste no more time here, Kazuya. The whelp will learn what it is to defy the devil./_/

Kazuya regained his sunglasses and jacket. "Then, my son. You have made your choice. We will settle this in typical family tradition. I will see you in the tournament."

"Not unless I see you there, first." Jin said, fingers tense and ready to strike against his own father. What was the price of the curse of his life…but to turn blood from blood, love to hate…and anger into devilry.


	12. Into the Mold

Chapter 11

Into the Mold

Hwoarang woke with a start, eyes looking around the sunlit room to find Jin had gone. He cast his amber gaze toward the digital read out on the clock near the bed. 10:30am. "Shit!"

The Blood Talon had less than an hour to get to his scheduled match. No time for a shower, not a chance in hell he would get himself ready by then. He would be lucky if he had time to stretch properly before the tournament even started.

He rose like a starting pistol had gone off, dumping his still unpacked duffel out onto the bed. His fingers curled around his dobuk, shaking it out, wrinkled as shit. Disgrace.

He slid the familiar, heavy uniform over his skin, grasping his bandana and tying it hastily to hold back his hair during the match. Throwing his spurred boots on and grasping his arm and leg guards, he rushed out of the door..but not before stopping in his madness to pick up the tossed pack of cigarettes and taking a moment to light a cylinder up.

Everyone has their priorities.

Nina Williams paced the confines of the ring. She had priorities, contracts that required her attention and the Irish Assassin would not be held up a moment longer than necessary. Her target was in the King of Iron Fist and it was her job to sniff him out. Now, where was hell was her damn opponent?

Hwoarang rushed into the tournament area, kicking off his boots and taking a moment to slide his shin and arm guards into place. He looked to Nina with a sudden sense of recognition. She looked..familiar. The Blood Talon could not place it but he swore he knew those features. And then it hit him, Steve Fox. Nina looked remarkably like the British Boxer. But that did not make sense, she was young….to young to have a son who was 21.

"I hate to be kept waiting." Nina said, flipping her hand in the air, dismissingly as Hwoarang stared at her. "Are we fighting or are we going to play…other games?" The Korean was handsome, she had to give him that. She could have a good bit of fun riding a body like that, glimpsed from the opening of her opponents dobok.

"One fucking minute." He snickered and drew down into a sideways split before her. He gasped at the sensation, the muscles recalling the motion but unready to receive them. It was the best stretch he could hope for, with so little time.

"Hwoarang!" came the cry and the waving hand held aloft, a short distance away. Steve was trying to get the Blood Talons attention and for a moment it worked before Steve got a head long shot at Nina…and felt, somehow drawn.

The Blood Talon rose up with agile motion, nodding toward Steve. The referee drew close and asked the simple, easy words, "Are you ready to begin?"

"Well, I am fucking here, aren't I?" The Blood Talon fell into stance as Nina blew him a kiss from across the small area. "Not in your wildest dreams, sweetheart." He cocked a loaded smile and the referee gave the signal for the fight to begin.

Jin was waiting in the stone area of the Korean Temple, his arms crossed before his chest, eyes watching Paul Pheonix pump up the small crowd with obnoxious smack talk. The Japanese youth was slowly growing impatient, tired from the last evening…unable to find blissful sleep after his encounter with Kazuya.

The Japanese youth turned his eyes to the side, along the decaying stone lions carved by Korean hands. He felt him before he saw him. Hwoarang. He was sitting on the back of the lion, still in his dobok, legs swung over as though he might ride the beast if it came to life. He flicked errant ashes from his cigarette and smiled when Jins eyes connected to his. Judging by his posture, Jin assumed the Blood Talon had won his match. Was there ever really a question?

"Aw, that's cute. Got your little boyfriend here to cheer you on. Well, Mishima brat, your going to need all the help you can get." Paul said in his usual obnoxious voice. He had been smack talking, not really meaning what he was saying…but he was closer to the truth then the idiot realized.

The current around Jins crossed arms encircled his chest. He had no love for the American since the last tournament. Paul had cheated to get to Toshin first, knocking Jin out cold to try and take the tournament. Now, adding insult to injury he was exposing a weak spot in Jins life. Hwoarang.

"Shut up and fight." Jin hissed as the referee jolted back, the battle starting without his signal.

Hwoarang watched Jin go through motions he had never before seen. "What the fuck is this happy horse shit." He said, cigarette tossed off to the ground, he took to chewing on his nail, still astride the stone lion. Jin was using a different art, it was obvious by the fall into to stance, the blocks and kicks that followed through. Was it possible the Japanese youth had taken on an entirely new art and tossed off the old like a snake shedding his skin?

"He disgraces his ancestors by removing his link to them." Came a voice so cold, so elegant, the Blood Talon turned his head like a shot. An older man was standing not far from him, stealthy little trick.

"Who the fuck asked you?" Hwoarang snided as the older man turned. What was staring back at him was Jins face, older and more defined, more severe as though it was twisted in an eternal grimace. The face was scarred, eyes held at bay by dark sunglasses. Expensive ones. This had to be…

"I would pay attention to your tone, Hwoarang." Kazuya said with a sneer. "It is improper to address the father of the man you court in such a way."

That snapped the Korean awake in a single second. For the first time in his life, the Blood Talon…didn't have a witty retort to toss back in his normal verbal frenzy. "What the fuck are you talking about, old man." It was the best he could do. It felt like the wind was knocked out of him.

Kazuya, with arms folded before his chest, drew several paces closer to the Korean atop the statue. He looked deep into Hwoarang to the point of looking through him. Hwoarangs body reacted to the full on hold of Kazuyas eyes, it felt revolting…like bad kimchi sitting at the edge of his gullet, waiting to expel.

"I know of you and my son. I know how you have tainted and corrupted him, driven him away from the path of his divinity, the grace of his ancestors. You are a sickness that has infected his body." Kazuya wanted nothing more than to rip the last shred of mortal coil from this boys body. But, he remained rooted, drinking in every detail of the so called Blood Talon. He was young. Healthy. Reminding Kazuya of an equally snide and youthful Silver Devil, 30 years ago. Hwoarang would almost be considered handsome, if he was not Korean…and if he had not been the disease that plagued Jins body.

"What the fuck is it with that?" Hwoarang hissed, jumping down from the lion. Two people in two days had said the same thing. What did they know that he didn't?

The brazen Korean stepped up, crossing his arms at his chest in defensive posture, mimicking Kazuyas stance. "So, what we got here is Jins walking dead daddy come back to fuck with his head. And a homophobe at that. You know what they say about homophobes, right?"

Kazuya snickered. How he wanted to lay waste to Hwoarang right here, right now and make Jin watch it unfold. But no, there was another way…and it would much more satisfying in the end. "You will stay away from my son, or you will suffer the consequences. I only give one warning."

"Jin is a big boy." Hwoarang hissed, trying to goad Kazuya into a fight. "A very big boy, at that. I suppose I should thank his mother for that, cause Pops aint much to look at."

//_Do you smell that, Kazuya?/_/

The younger Mishima did, in fact. What he scented was more than the disgusting passion that reeked from Hwoarangs skin. It was blood. Jins blood was pulsing strong in those Korean veins and that only infuriated Kazuya more, left eye glowing like a beacon beneath the shade that held it. Jins list of offenses were growing deeper by the moment. If he tried to use Jins demonic half to injure the boy…it would be a hard sell…the devil would know that familiar essence. A near virtual talisman.

//_Look with greater eyes, Kazuya. If he has indeed tasted Jins blood…then Jin…will come like a puppy dog to its masters whistle..should anything..befall this Korean rat. The cards once more turn in our favor. Our sons advantage has shifted and the game has become more interesting./_/

'You hear a fucking word I said, old man?" Hwoarang hissed as Kazuya fell eerily quiet. He was not used to be ignored, not when he was facing off and ready to take this man down.

Kazuya gave such a cold smile, the Blood Talon felt as though the temperature around him suddenly dropped. He felt himself getting sicker in that silence, like the blood in his body wanted to rush out through every open pore. It was excruciating…but he refused to show it. "We will meet again, Hwoarang. Sooner than you think."

The younger Mishima turned to walk away, spying another set of eyes watching the fight that went on at the bottom of the stairs of the temple. Heihachi was stalking the grounds like a jungle cat, looking for the opportune moment to strike.

A string of Korean profanities littered the air. Kazuya understood every guttural word. His step brother was Korean, after all. He paid it no mind as he walked away, the plans forming in his thoughts to lay the trap and get to the prize.

The Blood Talon fell back against the stone lion, closing his eyes as the sick feeling slowly began to leave. What was the correlation between the feeling and the people around him.

"Taking a nap?" Steve said with a laugh, as Hwoarangs eyes opened with a wide, sudden start.

"Has everyone been taking lessons on stealth. Fuck, Steve. I must be losing my mind and my alertness." The Korean hissed, blinking his eyes rapidly to clear the haze from his thoughts. He slid back up on the lion and let his chin drip down against his naked chest, dobok held open and caught in the slight warm breeze.

"Nah, your fine." Steve smiled, offering the Blood Talon a cigarette from his pack. He lit his own and then Hwoarangs. "Who was that creepy old gaffer?" The Brit tilted his head to indicate where Kazuya had walked off to.

"Too long of a story to tell you. So, how ya been?" He watched Jin and Paul in the battle at the bottom of the steps. The American was making the Japanese youth sing for his supper. It still did not make sense why Jin would unlearn the traditional art of his ancestors for Shotokan Karate. It was much more closely linked to Tae Kwon Do by its motions. It made Hwoarang smile. _Imitation as the sincerest form of flattery, why Jin, you romantic._ He would have to have a little chat with Kazama about this new turn of events.

"Getting ready to take on my match later this afternoon. Going out for a drink with Julia after that. That's cool with you, right?" Steve asked, leaning his arm on the lions head, which Hwoarang quickly swatted away with his booted foot. Interesting fashion statement, uniform and beaten down boots.

"Whatever man, no worries to me. Just don't try to stick it where she don't want it. She's a pretty alright chic." He said with a laugh, flicking the ashes from his borrowed smoke.

"The woman you were fighting before, Nina Williams. What do you know about her?" Steve asked, cracking his neck as he watched Hwoarang jolt at a particularly hard hit Jin had taken in his match. The Japanese youth flew back, landing on his ass as the American approached. Maybe Jin should have kept a better track of his training.

"Don't know much except the fact she looks like you. But shit, she cant be much older than you. So, not sure what that is all about. Got a sister or something you never knew about?" Hwoarang asked, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Get the fuck up off your ass, Kazama! Can you believe he fought me to a draw." But that had been a different style and a much more mentally focused time in his lovers life.

Steve took a longer glance down at the match, inhaling sharply. "So, this is the ex, huh?" He had met Jin for just a few moments, a few nights ago. He was a tasty bit of crumpet, there was little doubt about that. And Steve understood in that moment, enraptured as Hwoarang was with the fight…and Hwoarang was never enraptured with anything for this long.

"Yeah." Hwoarang said simply, nearly bolting upright when Jin scored some incredible combinations.

Steve smiled. "You going to come out tonight and hang with the rest of us?" Watching Hwoarang watching Jin was just too…sapping on his strength. He liked the Korean, maybe a little too much.

"Just might. Don't know yet. Depends." Hwoarang said, distracted. _Depends..on Jin._

"Alright, man. I will catch you later. Going to try to dig up some dirt on Nina Williams before I hit off my fight. You know how to find the lot of us." Steve flicked his cigarette ashes with a smile, liking the way Hwoarang was so animated. His departure barely seemed to get a flicker from the Korean. But that was alright, Steve understood what it was…to want.

"Was that my father?" Jin asked, sweating and out of breath, Paul Pheonix still laying unconscious on the ring set up at the bottom of the stairs to the Korean temple.

The Blood Talon slid down from atop the stone lion with a wry smile. "Yeah. He high tailed it…but not too many can stand to be around me when I am in one of my..moods."

Jin snickered. Hwoarang had no idea what fire he was playing with. "What did he want and what are you doing here?"

"He wanted the usual things all fathers want when I am after one of their kids." The Korean said with a smile, licking his lips as he tasted the sweat coming off of Jins body. It was almost tangible to his senses. "And why wouldn't I be here?"

"Because you shouldn't be." Jin said simply, walking toward the confines of the inner sanctum of the ruined Korean temple. This place should have been kept up better, shown its proper respect. Instead, it was left to hang in near over run tatters. A disgrace to such a strong culture.

The Blood Talon followed as Jin moved away. "What the fuck is that cryptic shit all about?" He said, removing his bandana and lacing it around his wrist to keep it safe. He liked it, old as it was. It was one of the few things the Korean had kept with him for a long while.

Jin turned, nearly rolling his eyes at that statement. He was becoming far too accustomed to Hwoarang, adopting some of those mannerisms and it was frightening. "You know why."

The Blood Talon already hated this conversation. "Enough with the cloak and dagger bullshit, already. Be man enough to say what you have to say."

Jin took a deep breath. Why was he such a masochist for all of this angst. He could not stay away from the Korean…and yet, he could not seem to stay with him either. It was as though both sides of his personality were vying over Hwoarang. "Forget it." Jin said, shaking his head, turning his attention back to the wounded architecture that surrounded the temple.

"No, Jin. I wont forget it." Hwoarang would not be turned away, not again, not after last night…his own revelations…and Jins need. He came around to the front of the Japanese youth, forcing Jin to look at him. "Jin, I wont forget it. Fucking look at me!"

The Japanese beauty cast his eyes to Hwoarang, absorbed by questioning amber depths. "The way that things are…between us. It cant work."

"Bullshit." The Korean said from a place of hurt. "You don't want it to work. For Christ sake, Jin…"

"Don't defame this place. Its serenity is the last power it has." Jin cautioned.

"I can defame it, because its Korean..built by Korean hands. The same way you have been…brought alive by my designs. Don't fucking do this, Jin. Please." The Blood Talon could not take another round of this battle.

That was the most emotion Jin had ever heard in Hwoarangs voice. Its soft crack shot a bolt through his body, making him want to buckle to his knees. "Why does it matter to you…why does any of this matter to you?"

"Because it does. I have been too involved with you to turn back now. I know shit is getting deeper, I feel it all around you. But who do you come to when all of it is going to hell? Who has been there, each time to build you back up. Fuck, Jin. Why do you keep running away from me." Hwoarang turned and kicked an errant stone, cursing in a language Jin could only pretend to know the meaning of.

Why were their fates so inexplicably tied together? Why did they seem to find each other, always come around to this place inside of themselves? Why couldn't Hwoarang just let him go, let him walk his path alone. "I know you have been there, on this journey with me…and for that I am eternally thankful…"

"Save it, Kazama." Hwoarang said with a wave of his hand, walking away to the edge of the temple, to the overrun trees that filtered into the back of the once glorious stone building. It was just to much to bear.

Jin stood for a long moment, looking at the decaying idols carved into the walls. To be with Hwoarang meant precisely what Kazuya had said…the ruin of all. And yet, he loved the Korean youth…more than he ever believed he would or could. Hwoarang was his anchor, the very thing grounding him into place. But that place was volatile and changing…dangerous and frightening. If he really loved the Blood Talon, how could he take him on that journey?

The better part of a painful hour separated the two from each other. Hwoarang found a place to camp, sitting on an outcrop of rock that had once been formed into an observing deck, a place the temple keepers could come to admire their work. But there was no admiration for Hwoarang now, just the painful solitude of having been rejected, again, and probably for the last time.

"Since when do you run away from a fight?" Jin said, leaning with his shoulder against the mossy outside wall. He had been watching the Korean beauty for long moments, looking out over the ruined world with searching, questioning eyes. That was more his trait than the fiery Blood Talons.

Jin wasn't sure why he stayed. Perhaps, knowing Hwoarang felt something real for him, felt that kind of pain..softened his heart. Or maybe, he loved the Korean just that much that he could not release him.

"When I got no more fight left in me." Hwoarang said, casting his eyes sideways up to Jins face. Why did something that hurt him so much, look so fucking beautiful.

Jin closed the distance, reaching a hand to cup that angular chin, his eyes holding Hwoarangs so intimately. "I think you have a lot of fight left in you, I just don't think you give yourself enough credit."

The Blood Talon pulled his face back from that gentle touch. "Don't blow smoke up my ass, you gave the speech, your free to go."

"Stop it." Jin said in a voice firm enough to make Hwoarang quirk his brows. "That's right, you heard me correctly. Stop it. Stop all of this pretense and all of this drama. You knew I would not leave here, leave you. I really wanted to..but you know I could not."

Hwoarang returned amber eyes to Jins sable gaze. "Why?" It was simple.

"You know why, Seung. Lets just leave it there right now…and see what happens." Jin said with a soft smile, giving into himself to just let things..unfold. An odd sensation, after feeling himself being folded over and over again like metal undergoing the process of the forge.

"You drive a hard bargain. But I accept." Hwoarang said with a touch of that fire back in his voice. He did not move for a long breath, holding Jins eyes, wanting to fill those perfect ears with every revelation burning at the back of his throat. But now, was not the time for it. So, instead, the Korean followed his instinct and let it guide him to Jins lips. That first brush was electric and tantalizing and he leaned closer to his lover, his hand resting at the soft flesh near the join of the shoulder, feeling Jin wince slightly from the still bite tendered area.

For a moment, Jin swore he felt the world turn just a little bit slower…giving him even more time to savor the taste of Hwoarangs lips against his own.


	13. The Soul of the Maker Shares Destiny

Chapter 12

The Soul of the Maker Shares Destiny with the Sword

Jin stepped into the Club he had not entered in two years. It was the same garish parade, the strobing lights and grinding bodies. How different he had been then, how unencumbered and innocent. This had been the scene of his first kiss with Hwoarang and the place of near disaster the moment he spilled his love over lips too naïve to understand the repercussions.

Now, the Blood Talon was his guide back to this world. He had not wanted to attend but upon hearing both Julia and Ling had proclaimed victory over their opponents, he felt compelled. Jin knew Steve would be present as well. He had said little to the Korean when the word of Steve Fox victory had leaked forth. That was still a very sore area for discussion.

"Oh, my god. You're here and its like déjà vu! You have been hiding out, naughty boy!" Ling said. She had been standing at the bar sipping a pink drink from a hurricane glass, nearly swearing her eyes had deceived her when she saw Hwoarang and Jin approach.

Jin smiled, despite himself. "I promised Hwoarang I would attend. I would be nothing if I did not keep my word."

Ling rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay, that's the motivation. Come on, Jin. I know you better than that."

"Hey midget, don't pick on him." Hwoarang approached with a half cocked grin, drawing a cigarette to his lips. He was pleased to see her. The grounds she helped him break through, in Jins name, would never be something he would forget. She might be pushy, annoying and overly energetic, but she was still..almost…a friend.

Ling gave a sideways smile that spoke volumes, even in her uncharacteristic silence. "So, I beat the masked guy, King. Wow, that was a tough go of it. But, I am still alive for the quarterfinals and grandfather is so proud he is practically beaming!"

"Congratulations are in order." Jin said, gentlemanly to the end.

"Well, since you put it that way, I think you should take a shot in my name! You to, Hwoarang." Ling smiled, deviously. She turned her gaze for a moment to catch Julia and Steve grinding together with enough energy to run Tokyo city for a full night. She wondered silently how that made Hwoarang feel, she was not blind enough to believe the Korean held no feelings toward the boxer even though he had brazenly proclaimed his love for Jin. Attractions don't just go away.

"My experience with taking a shot has never been a good one." Jin said, shaking his head with a slight grimace.

"Don't be such a fucking pussy. Besides, you fought hard, earned yourself a drink, with that new fangled style of martial arts." Hwoarang was making sure Jin knew that he had noticed something quite different in the earlier fight. "Makes the come down from the fight that much sweeter."

Jin was used to the banter by now. In the Blood Talons own way, it was showing care. Slights no longer bothered him when Hwoarang issued them forth from a strong mouth. He knew better of Hwoarang…but not yet as much as he wanted to know. If this tentative "relationship" could ever really work, that would have to be remedied soon. He sighed heavily and wondered if the drink would not be a positive thing to take away the events of the past two days, the budding situations more delicate than he could speak of. "Alright."

Hwoarang smiled as Jin finally conceded. He leaned into the bar, fisting some cash onto the cool wood. "Two shot glasses. Leave the bottle." came the sharp words, even as Jin watched the heavy sum of Yen left on the polished counter.

"That's a hefty wad of Yen?" Jins statement was more of a question than anything else. The bankroll kept in that overly tight pocket was hefty. The Japanese youth took his eyes from Hwoarang for a moment long enough to draw his jacket off and tie it around his waist.

That simple motion had Hwoarangs unending attention. The Blood Talon loved to see the play of strobing lights against Jins firm, muscular arms. It promised to be more intoxicating than the drink he ordered. "Business has been good. Very good. Getting better each day."

The tender placed two clean shot glasses and a bottle of aged whiskey before the copper haired Korean. Hwoarang wasted no time in pouring the libation. "mah-shil-gah-yo?"

Jin half smiled. Something about that guttural edge to Hwoarangs voice was always fascinating, exotic and even more so when used on his native language. The Japanese youth would make it a point to learn to speak Korean, properly. Hwoarang was already far more astute and spoke Japanese, albeit broken. "I…um…"

"Shall we drink. It means, shall we drink?" The Korean held the two shot glasses aloft. Jin accepted one just as he felt a hand on his arm.

"Jin, you remember Julia, right?" Ling said with a smile, still keeping hold on him. It wasn't for comfort sake, it was because Steve had joined the fray…and knowing how fractured the Japanese youth had been lately, Ling did not put it past Jin to…get aggressive.

Jin downed the shot, clearing his throat and holding back a cough. "Yes." He croaked and turned to see Julia…and the Brit had come off of the dance floor. His eyes narrowed even as the Native American waved an excited hello.

"Look at you, ya fucking pimp. Hawaiian shirts are out, even for a fag like you." Hwoarang said with a laugh, smacking Steve on the upper arm.

"Yeah, well, I got it from your house, git." Steve returned playfully. That obviously wasn't the case. Hwoarang kept it tight and kept it simple, clothing with that much flare would have taken away from the already obnoxious accessories and copper dyed tendrils.

"Fuck you." Hwoarang flicked the ashes of his cigarette, left abandoned on the edge of the bar, butt facing in, lit end on the counter. Good thing he caught it, a moment more and it might have burned the wood. "Want a shot?"

"Shit yeah." Steve said and looked up from Hwoarang only to catch Jins narrowed eyes. The tension built in that gaze could have knocked him down. "Hey, Jin. Good to see you again. Great match this afternoon."

"Thank you." He spoke simply but darkly as his eyes said all he needed to, accentuated by a play of lightning…or was it strobe that licked his pupils? _Come sniffing around what is mine, again, and I will destroy your world and everything in it._

Steve had paid Jin a well earned, well meaning compliment but had been met with the light of obsession…or was it possession he saw licking into the Japanese youths eyes. "Right."

Ling watched the brief exchange and felt a shiver go up his spine at the cold look in Jins eyes. She tightened up on his arm. "So, are Julia and I, like, invisible. Why don't we get drinks poured for us?"

Hwoarang spit the shot in his mouth back out. A wave went through him so sharp, he thought someone had punched him in the gut. "I should get something to eat before I drink any more of this shit." He said, placing the spit out glass back on the bar and tapped at the counter to get the tenders attention.

"Two more glasses, a menu…and whatever the fuck the two chics are drinking." Hwoarang was not stupid. He knew something was definitely linked now, something between Jins blood…his lovers anger…and the intense feelings of sickness that surrounded it. What the link was, exactly, he could not tell. Yet.

Jin turned his eyes when he saw Hwoarang spit out the drink into the shot glass and then, heard the Korean bang on the counter. He looked pale. At that moment, Steve no longer mattered.

Jin stepped back, his attention now solely devoted to the Blood Talon. Ling was forced to release her grip with the sudden, focused motion. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine. Haven't eaten all day. Think my body needs something more than cigarettes and whiskey." Hwoarang said with a smirk, flicking his eyes along Jins body for a moment. "Definitely need some protein."

Hwoarang fumbled with the lock without missing a single flick of that hot, slick tongue around his own. He felt the mechanism give and he turned the handle, door pushing open beneath Jins weight.

The Japanese youth caught himself on the back wall, nearly falling over in the process. "You could have warned me." He said as Hwoarang used a back kick to slam the door shut tossing the keys into the kitchen, his body covering over Jins, both hands framing against the side of Japanese beauty's shoulders.

"I like to see you caught off guard." He smiled, leaning down to nip at the perfect flesh of Jins neck. He could have spent an hour on that hallowed ground and not thought twice about it.

Jin lowered his eyes, letting a slow moan rush past his lips. It was surprising that the two of them made it to Hwoarangs apartment safely. They had walked the entire way, both too piss drunk to even attempt to steer or stabilize the Blood Talons motorcycle. Every well concealed place along the walk through the Yurei district delayed their journey…hands and mouths unable to tear away from flesh long enough to gain their footing and continue on. By the time the two had made it back to the apartment, it was a frenzy.

Hwoarang let one hand free from the wall, sliding up under Jins zippered jacket, craving skin since the moment the Japanese youth had put the damn thing back on. "Fuck baby, you are hot." He groaned against Jins neck, teasing the hot flesh with a graze of his teeth.

Jin tilted his head back against the wall, giving the Korean all the access to his neck he could desire, his hand grasped at the Blood Talons shirt, fisting the material and threatening to tear it from his lovers body. His eyes flew open, feeling sharp enamel connect with the join of his shoulder and Jin let free a heavy, thick moan. "Seung…ahh, that hurts…" it was far from a protest, it was pleasure.

That was the cue for the Blood Talon to sink deeper into the velvet, welcoming flesh, his body pulled tight to Jins by the grasp the Japanese youth had on the fabric. The sweet, anguishing hold of his teeth had Jin pressing up against him, arching between the constriction of the Koreans body and the cold wall behind him.

Hwoarang lifted his mouth, reddened with a small trickle of blood from that reopened, sensitive area of Jins flesh. He wasted no time in sharing the copper tang, taking Jins mouth with a fever, a frenzy he could not seem to slake. His fingers released from beneath Jins zippered jacket and snaked into those ebony tendrils, tugging hard enough to force his lovers face away from him, sable eyes lowered with the heat of the sensation.

Jin bucked up against Hwoarangs body, sending a course of dark need beneath the skin. His neck molded to that tight grasp on his hair even as his fingers, fisted into Hwoarangs shirt, drew the Blood Talon closer. The Japanese beauty could barely breath…consumed only by desire and need.

"I love to watch you fucking writhe…God damn, just looking at you makes me hard." Hwoarang groaned, drawing his face so close to Jins, teeth clenched in pure, feral heat.

"Then…do something about it." Jin hissed in frustration, his body anxious to be claimed. His words elicited another hard tug, making his neck strain at a nearly delicious angle by that dominant pull.

"Oh, I fucking intend to." The Blood Talon growled, his firm thigh coming between Jins legs, arch of his boot and the pressure of his body making his lover move like a puppet into the kitchen.

Two interlocked bodies spilled over onto the counter, Hwoarangs mouth sinking once more to that exquisite split skin at the join of Jins shoulder, hearing his lover cry out with red hot bliss and perfectly placed anguish. They continued to move, Jins body forced to respond as Hwoarang dictated, captured like a slave in his masters grip.

Jin jolted, when he felt his back hit against the dining table just outside of the kitchen, breath captured at the rim of his lips when Hwoarangs body fully connected to his…a jolt of white hot need passing between them like lightning. Jin might never have been so willing to play into Hwoarangs dominance like this…if he had not been under an influence almost as intoxicating as the Korean.

Hwoarang lifted his lips from Jins mouth, his chin speckled with red flecks of blood, a nearly animalistic gaze in those deep amber depths. He removed the fisted hold of Jins hand around his jacket and tore for the string that bound those black training pants open, his breath as loud as a sudden summer storm.

"Here?" Jin croaked out, panting for breath, rolling his strained neck back, now free of Hwoarangs perfect, entangling fingers.

"Yeah…here…" The Korean hissed and reached over Jins side, one hand still holding the knot of those warm up pants…as the other hand cleared the entire contents of the table in one, full arm sweep. Crashing plates and chittering objects collided with wall and floor and Jin jolted when those eyes held his once more.

Jin let free a strangled breath, his hands reaching to rip those denim jeans open, only to have his hands swatted away as the knot holding his own came undone. "Seung!" he exclaimed, shocked his lover had just done that.

"Get the fuck over the table." Hwoarang hissed, taking Jins hips and forcibly moving his lover, one hand pressing on the Japanese beautys clothed spine to accentuate the bend in that perfect back. Using his strong, deadly leg once more, he forced Jins strong thighs to part, the motion sending those warm up pants down to the knees. "Going commando…just the fucking way I like you…" He commented, realizing in his drunken haze that Jin had not been wearing underclothing.

Jins hands held the cool wood, his eyes rolled back at the intensity of the his own desire to be had this way…as though Hwoarang had read his mind. He could barely grasp hold of his own breath, let alone the raging pulse of his heart against his chest. Even his rib cage seemed to shake with every vibration of pure, feral desire. "Seung…hurry…" he groaned.

"Don't try to get fucking cute with me…I will fill that hot ass…faster than you can beg…and baby, you beg pretty fucking fast." Hwoarang groaned, nearly ripping the catch from his jeans as the parted denim hung down against his thighs. His aching length twitched against his fingers. The Blood Talon was nearly seeing double…but as piss drunk as he was, he would not be completely unkind.

Hwoarang spit down onto his hand, rubbing the saliva over his length to slick it, thumbing against his already pleading crown to release some of that sticky preslick that nestled just inside the narrow opening. The Korean let it gather there, even as one hand continued to rest on Jins clothed back forcefully, as though keeping his lover hostage.

Hwoarang let his tip spread those perfect firm globes, crown pressing against the tight puckered ring of muscle. Jin shook against the table, cheek resting against the cool surface as his body thrummed with need. If the Korean did not fill him soon, as promised, he might punch down through the wood and splinter the table into a thousand slivers.

"Open up…and fucking say Ah." Hwoarang groaned, his length swallowed into that narrow channel in one, fast, hard motion. Jin cried out loud enough to crack glass, arms going outward instantly to grip the far edge of the table, stabilizing himself. "Yeah…you fucking like that." The Korean purred. "Lets see..how you like this."

The Blood Talon took his own weight on his knees, leaning down on his strong legs to give him leverage…he thrust up and in…feeling Jins body absorb him, quiver and tighten. Every swallowed breath he could hear Jin gasp back…was incentive to keep dealing it out.

"I..cant..fucking..hear you, Jin." Hwoarang groaned, his strong hips lending to every driving thrust as the Japanese youth cried out, the table shaking beneath the intense, heavy thrusts.

"Seung!" Jin finally made out, unable to arch back to receive more…unknowing if he could take it if he did. Never had he felt Hwoarang like this…the mix of words and aura…the heat of intensity that threatened to tear him wide open. There was no spit left in his mouth to lubricate a scream of perfect pleasure, perfect agony. There was only Hwoarang, deep and moving inside of him.

"More!" Jin finally made out, releasing one hand from the table and grasping hold of Hwoarangs flexing hip, nails digging into flesh, hearing Hwoarang suck back a breath to mingle with a string of heavy, guttural Korean curses.

"Baby..I am going to fucking break you." Was all Hwoarang said through gritted teeth..and backed up his words with pure, truthful action. As Jin pulled him in, Hwoarang spiraled like a recoiling spring, pistoning into that hot channel until he was forced to grasp the edge of the table on the side of Jins body just to keep himself from falling over.

When Hwoarang hit that spot inside of him, Jin went into a frenzy of hissed breaths….his grip tightened on the edge of the table across from him, shaking the wood till he could hear it groan beneath him, ready to split in half. He found that place inside of himself where pain and pleasure mingled, feral and civil battled for dominance…and the world itself stopped…focused into heavy, dark thrusts. But unlike every time before this…where the Korean flirted with tormenting that hidden treasure inside of him…Hwoarang was now making it a full onslaught.

"Fuck!" Jin let out, his face rolling along the table, under the intense spell that just would not stop. It was malicious, pure pleasure and it made his length, neglected and smacking into the air unused, start to leak with preslick.

The Blood Talon knew exactly what he was doing…overloading Jins body to sate that heavy lust between them. Every convulsion, made Hwoarang thrust harder, his heavy crown battering that pleasure nub until Jin was starting to spark… "Fucking..hold it back. Do you..hear me..Jin. Control it…" Hwoarang hissed as he gripped the table with both arms now, on either side of Jins body. He was not about to get another electrical burn.

Jin was walking a world he had never seen before…everything was dull with the exception of Hwoarangs body abusing his own…tearing apart every brick and mortar of his world to rebuild it again. The fatal lightning. He could feel it lick his flesh…and the faint command to stop it. Jin closed his eyes tightly as he cried out, every last bit of his will trying to keep the electric chi inside of him. "Seung!"

Hwoarang threw his head back as Jins hand sank deeper into the already torn flesh at his hip, trying to draw him deeper in, to take in more. The Blood Talon was already too close to stop now…and thrust with such an aim, he could barely stop the flow ready to burst…his crown hit against that nub over and over again, forcing the skin to shiver inside Jins milking core.

Jins body writhed with a seizure, squeezing the thickness that filled him. He could not hold himself back…and with a heavy, swallowed Japanese curse, he felt Hwoarang overtake his body…the hot, heavy flood of tearing desire in his spine and core…till he spilled every last drop of himself all over the dining room floor.

"Fucking ride me out!" Hwoarang hissed, his grip on the table threatening to break through it as Jin hit his crescendo, spilling onto the floor, core gnashing down on his already pulsing length. He gave himself to it, letting the explosion burst through to fill Jins body with every sticky, pearly drop.

Jin could not stop shaking when he felt Hwoarangs hand leave the table to press, flat against his spine. "Seung…" He said, weakly, his body alive and thrumming, still wracking in slow motions beneath his lovers attentions.

"Yes…baby…fuck…that was almost as hot as you are." Hwoarang groaned, slowly withdrawing from that overfilled core and falling back against the wall to catch his breath, breaking Jins nails from his torn hip. His head was spinning with the aftershocks and after affects of the alcohol. "You..alright, baby?"

Jin tried to press off the table and nearly stumbled, catching himself at the last moment before turning around, his body aching. The sight of red caught his unfocused eyes, the scent filling him. The urge was too strong to resist, like a magnetic force making his mouth water.

The Japanese beauty sank down to his knees before Hwoarang, ripping off his jacket, now stained with sweat. Both hands grasped that firm thigh, forcing the denim that clung to the Koreans hips to slide further down before him as his lips descended soundlessly to the gashes, reopened in hot Korean flesh. His mouth suckled and lapped the fresh blood as though he had thirsted for days without any chance of sustenance.

The Blood Talon moaned, his hand sliding down into Jins hair as his lover lapped at the shorn flesh of his hip. The only thing keeping the Blood Talon standing now, was that hot, lapping sensation.

Jin was inundated with the taste of Hwoarang…the pure, complete feeling of flecks of blood carried down his throat by that viciously lapping tongue. The Japanese beauty wanted to choke on a heavy draught of it.

"How do I taste baby? Good isn't it?" The Blood Talon purred, twining obsidian tendrils through his fingers. He had never shared the taste of his own blood with anyone, never really thought about the significance behind it. But now, Jin seemed obsessed. And what would normally have dictated this to be going too far over the edge…they had long passed any place of safety between them.

Jins eyes looked up the Koreans body and into amber depths. Hwoarang could see the flash of teeth…and groaned suddenly with a blaze of silver tinged pain. His lover tore him, overcome with the pure, bestial need for that heavy essence. The Blood Talons fingers tightened in that thick mane, his hip moving in his own rhythm to that probing mouth and hot suck.

"Fuck. Easy baby…" Hwoarang hissed out as Jins teeth sank deeper into his skin, making his entire leg tingle. The Japanese youths eyes were half slit with awakening desire, flickers of fatal lightning turned inward to lick from iris to pupil before the rim of those sable orbs started to flash silver…like mercury leaking into the deep brown color. "Jin…you fucking hear me…that hurts…not the good hurt either…"

The Blood Talon took a tighter hold on Jins hair, thrusting the Japanese youth back as that sudden and sick feeling started to wash over him. "What the fuck is wrong with your eyes…God damn." He nearly doubled over.

Jins mouth was torn from the delicious, sugary font and his jaw clenched, elongating canines digging into the sides of his cheeks, hidden by the fleshy insides of his mouth. The Japanese youth was like a person possessed, grasping Hwoarangs thighs once more, this time, his mouth wrapped around something far less painful…

Hwoarang arched back against the wall when he felt the intense heat wrap around his still tight sac. The pleasure of the sensation and the pain in his gut rivaled with one another. His hands sank to Jins shoulders as he both grimaced and moaned before finally thrusting Jin away from him a second time. "Jin…cut this shit out. Enough." He hissed, reaching for the denim of his jeans to pull them up.

"I will tell you when I have had enough of you." A voice so much deeper than Hwoarang had heard before..with the exception of the night Jin had walked in with unspoken accusations to find Steve in the Blood Talons apartment, echoed through him now. The Japanese youth drew up with an agility so sharp, someone of his size, though fast and powerful, should not have possessed.

Jin captured Hwoarang against him, using the wall and Hwoarangs momentary weakness as his advantage. "I want you. Beneath me."

Hwoarangs eyes widened. That glittering mercury was creeping deeper and deeper into Jins normally placid, warm eyes. The grip of the sickness was tighter now, making his gut turn in knots. "Not like this…" He managed, eyes shutting with a stab of pain.


	14. The Whet Stone

Chapter 13

The Whet Stone

Hwoarang awoke with a splitting headache. Eyes flew open, only to slant in the beams of sunlight that filtered through the windows. He tried to sit up, but his body was aching…and it had not all been from the fighting, fucking and alcohol. Jin was wrapped around him, and deep in the arms of sleep. Or so he thought.

Jin stirred, his arm draped protectively over the Blood Talons clothed torso, his eyes blinking in slow, fluid motions as his lovers features melded into one, perfect face. "Seung…" He managed, his arm discarded as the Korean finally started to sit himself up. "…are you alright?"

"What the fuck happened last night" He hissed, only now realizing the two of them were laying on the floor of the living room.

Jin slowly sat up, rubbing his aching temples, the taste of blood heavy in his mouth. That was when the memories came to him, like a third person looking in, standing outside of himself. Hwoarang had passed out cold, sinking against Jins body as the Japanese youth had his lover captured between the wall and his own flesh. Only it was not him, not entirely. The devil within, heightened by the taste of blood, loosened of its shackles by a night of too much alcohol and too much of Hwoarang…was trying to break free. And it had nearly happened.

Only when Hwoarang slumped against his body, did Jin start to break free of the imprisonment of the Devils control. He sank to the floor with the Blood Talon and cradled him. He remembered crying into those copper tendrils…recalled feeling helpless as his lover lay in his arms, lost to the blackness.

Jin had little of his own strength then. He crawled into the living room from the small dining area, dragging Hwoarang with him as gently as he could. He wrapped himself around the Blood Talon, believing that although the beast had nearly been unleashed, it was only Hwoarang who brought him back to himself.

"I..don't remember." Jin said with as much confusion as he could make himself muster. "I think you lost consciousness."

Hwoarang brushed a hand through his hair, straining to recall the evening. Jin had gone into such a feral frenzy after their hasty encounter, lapping at blood that fell from the Koreans hip…sinking teeth deeper in, greedy with need for more. He remembered his Japanese beauty trapping him up against the wall, wanton in a way Hwoarang had never seen before…a force that just kept coming at him, even though he tried to push Jin away. And those eyes. Those beautiful sable Japanese eyes…were tainted, like liquid mercury from a broken thermometer. "Yeah. Me either."

Jin looked up into those searching amber depths, trying to find something to say, some words that would wipe away what foggy recollections both of them surely shared. He did not know what he would have done to his lover, if the Devil had taken him over, completely. At least, he had not violated Hwoarang as the darkness wanted to do. "About last…"

Hwoarang turned his eyes to a heavy knock at his door before glancing back to Jin, stifled at the sound that split between them like a knife. "Who the fuck could that be, at this hour?" The Blood Talon had no idea what time it was, but any hour of waking was coined, "this hour".

"Hwoarang! You there?" Came a familiar voice.

"Ahh, shit. Its Chang." He said, drawing up to a stand, painfully. He fastened his jeans and reached two crossed hands down to Jin. "Come on baby, get up."

Jin took those outstretched hands, almost thankful for the interruption. His lover was not the type to pick up a conversation after it was ended, or, for all intents and purposes, never completely began. He pressed his bent knees into position and let the Blood Talons strength hoist him up…bringing him eye to eye with the Korean.

"We will figure out last night, another time." Hwoarang said, lifting his hand to brush against Jins angular cheek, seeing so much worry in those lovely features.

"Alright." Jins said with a slight nod to accentuate his scant acceptance of the idea.

"I hear you in there, come on. Open the door." Chang said, impatiently from the outside of the portal.

"One fucking minute." Hwoarang barked, looking over his shoulder as though staring down an enemy. He returned his gaze to Jins and leaned in, taking those slightly parted lips, fingers lingering up into the tendrils he had adored pulling on last night, giving the ebony edges a slight tug, feeling those warm petals open even more to him.

Jin melted into the hot twine of tongues, his lips eager for every sweet drop, as though Hwoarangs kiss could beam pure light on all the shadows that threatened to enshroud him. He moaned slowly as his lover pulled away.

"Now, I'm fucking hard as a rock." The Korean youth half cocked a smirk, running his fingers through his dyed mane. "God damn, baby. Keep my breakfast hot for me." He let his fingers drip down to Jins readjusted warm up pants, giving that perfect package a quick, inviting squeeze.

Jin let free a heavy breath as Hwoarang walked away. He muttered in native Japanese, hoping Hwoarang could not understand him as he readjusted the aching stiffness that tented his clothing, with hopes he could hide it from invading eyes.

"What the hell took you so long?" Chang barked as Hwoarang opened the door with a smirk. It did not take his blood brother a moment to notice the obvious…"state" the Blood Talon was in.

"Busy. What's going on?" Hwoarang said. He could not face the news of the day without his first, morning cigarette.

"Well, you letting me in, or what?" Chang shook his head. He wondered who the Blood Talon had brought home last night. Hwoarangs bedroom should have had a ticket holder at the entrance, "now serving #…."

The portal parted and Hwoarang stepped back. "Don't say a fucking word till I get a cigarette." He chided, reaching into his overly tight denim pocket to find the pack crushed…but a few good cylinders remained.

Chang stepped into the apartment through the kitchen. Droplets of dark dried blood lined the range in a pattern as though someone had been bleeding and moving at the same time. The dining table before him was askew, chair toppled to its side, dirty broken dishes on the floor with a host of other indiscernible objects, smashed to pieces. "What the fuck happened in here last night?" He said as his eyes turned upward from the rubble to find…Jin Kazama sitting on the couch. The Japanese youth looked like a train wreck. That was the answer to his question.

Hwoarang stepped into the living room, where he could see Chang observing the mess. He lit up a cigarette after the terrible moment he could not find his lighter, which had been tucked safely in the breast pocket of his zipper up vest. For a moment the flame illuminated his features and Jins eyes met his through the flicker. The Blood Talon quickly drew his attention back to Chang. "Nothing." He replied with a snicker.

Jin felt the heat of Changs eyes on him and drew in a heavy breath. He waited for either to start talking, alight with the sudden need to leave this apartment or face the wrath of one of Hwoarangs street demons finding out…their secret.

"Kazama Jin. We finally meet in the flesh." Chang said, walking over to the Japanese youth who bolted upright onto his feet as though he was about to be attacked. He bowed, which Jin echoed, quickly enough.

"Jin, this is Chang, my blood brother. There, now everyone knows each other." The Blood Talon exhaled the blue tinged vapor, dropping back into the couch, feeling the leather welcome his weight. "So, what's got your panties in a bunch this morning, Chang?"

Chang shook his head, still in awe of being in the presence of Kazama Jin after nearly three years. He had been at the first fight between the two, in the back alleys of Korea. Had helped Hwoarang recover after the vicious draw. Another two of those years he had spent trying to find out if the Japanese youth was really and truly dead. But this was their first, complete meeting.

If Chang had been into guys, Jin would have been an obvious choice. He was the strong, silent type, the atypical tall, dark and handsome. It was no wonder Hwoarang could not stop thinking of the Japanese youth, even during his time served unwillingly in the Korean Military.

Chang returned his attentions to Hwoarang even as Jin sat down. "I was downtown last night with Saatchi and passed by Club Oblivion. Saw your fucking bike there and flipped script. I thought something happened to you."

Hwoarang had nearly forgotten his bike was still at the club. "Shit. I gotta get it out of there before someone steals the fucking thing."

"Good thing I kept a set of keys on me cause I brought it back here. Thought either you got too piss drunk to ride it or you were laying dead somewhere. Your never without your bike, Seung." Chang said, without even thinking.

"How does he….?" Jin began, silenced by Hwoarangs halting hand.

Chang looked to Jin and then back to the Blood Talon. So, he wasn't the only one besides Baek Do San to know Hwoarangs big secret. This wasn't just a couple nights of desire with Jin, there was way much more on the line.

"We had a little too much to drink and walked back here. You're a fucking lifesaver, Chang. God Damn. Don't know what I would have done if something happened to that bike." The Blood Talon let his head tip back against the pillowy softness of the leather couch, exhaling smoke.

"Long as you are alright. You coming to the den today? We still have some recruits from two days ago who are waiting for your seal of approval." Chang asked, side glancing to Jin.

"Yeah, I will make an appearance." The Blood Talon said, crushing his cigarette. Although unspoken, Hwoarang could feel the difference in his blood brothers eyes. Chang approved of his choice of lovers, probably for the first time in their lives together.

"Well, then I wont keep you and your..company." Chang said, nodding his head to Hwoarang. "Don't worry, I will see myself out." With that, he turned on his heel, bowing slowly to Jin with a half smile.

Jin rose immediately to return the formal farewell, finding himself too hasty in his stance. "Pleasure to meet you, Chang." He said, even as the other Korean youth was walking toward the door.

When the Japanese youth heard the portal closed, he turned his eyes to Hwoarang. "How does he know your name?"

"We have been like brothers a long time. Only he and Baek ever knew it…and now, you. I keep my secrets close to my heart." Hwoarang said, feeling that almost possessive chill from Jins eyes. He drew up against the still standing Japanese beauty.

"What other secrets do you keep, Seung?" Jin asked, warily as the Blood Talon drew up against him, fingers snaking into his already mussed ebony tendrils.

"I keep only as much as some and less than others." Hwoarang said, leaning in against Jins lips. The Japanese beauty met him half way for a deep, slow twining kiss, his hands sliding up Hwoarangs clothed spine, pressing the Korean against him.

The Blood Talons hand slid along the outside curve of Jins hip before dipping into the scant space between them to cup the already thickening shaft bound in those loose warm up pants.

Jin moaned into those perfect moist lips, tasting that fiery Korean mouth, laced with nicotine. A sworn prayer of salvation, ended mid chant as his eyes opened to find Hwoarangs gaze holding his. "Did you keep breakfast hot for me, baby?" He purred, licking his lips of Jins taste.

"Yes…" Jin said, flushed as the Korean beauty cupped and kneaded against his barely constricted length. "What..did you have in mind?"

Hwoarang pressed in against the sweet flesh of Jins neck, his hot tongue lapping against the side of the Japanese youths earlobe. "A good hard fucking." He purred into the shell of Jins ear, making his lover shiver at the heat of his breath. "I think you need some release…" he continued. "..I know what its like to have all that pent up aggression in your blood." The Blood Talons teeth captured the lobe of Jins ear.

The Japanese youth moaned, drawing Hwoarang as tight to him as he could, feeling that perfect hand change from kneading to stroking against his already eager length.

"You wanna fuck me, baby?" Hwoarang purred, his teeth releasing the captured lobe to give his tongue freedom to trace the flesh just below Jins ear. "Break me open, like I did to you last night?"

Jins eyes tightened. He felt his body shift, almost uncomfortably. "I…cant." He managed, the taste of blood still coursing through his senses. "I cant..trust myself with you, like that…not right now."

_So he did remember last night. _Hwoarang stepped back, tilting his head down slightly, his eyes boring into Jins like a power tool. "Why cant you trust yourself, Jin?" He said with a heavy, analytical voice.

"Because I cant." Jin said, drawing himself closer to Hwoarang, pain and fear heavy behind his eyes. "Lets just..leave it at that, please."

"Leave it at that? Mind telling me what the hell all of this is about, Jin? First the tattoo…and then the feathers…the black markings and that crazy silver shit in your eyes?" Hwoarang remained firmly in place, even as Jin drew painfully close. "You have been keeping me in the dark for two fucking years. What aren't you telling me?"

Jin felt the heavy weight of Hwoarangs questioning, almost unable to meet those amber eyes. His fingers reached out, trying to find some sense of reassurance. "I cant tell you anything…if I don't know myself."

"That's not fucking good enough, Jin." Hwoarang hissed, both in angry questioning and at the trace of the Japanese youths hand. Even as pissed off as he was, Jins touch still did things to him. He couldn't help that. "Tell me why the fuck I feel..sick…around you…"

"Sick?" Jin asked, genuinely unsure of what Hwoarang meant by his words.

"Yeah, like punched in the gut sick…you get into this fucking mood…and it hits me like a hammer." Hwoarang narrowed his lashes.

The thought of it was too painful for Jin to take. There had to be a correlation between the blood Hwoarang had tasted from him…and that sickness. That overwhelming illness must have come from their connection…and the devil within him. Hwoarang had seen the tribal black markings…now began to question the feather..or apparently, several feathers Jin had left behind while fighting off the transformations. _It had to be from that night, with Steve in the Koreans apartment_…

"I just don't have the answers you seek…but we will figure this all out, Seung…please…believe in that." Jin said but he knew Hwoarang was not biting at his bait. He felt torn, on a soul deep level. Fractured from the hold of that cutting amber gaze.

"Maybe I should take you home." Hwoarang said, firmly encased in the wall that sprang up fast between them.

That simple comment cut Jin to the bone. "No. That's alright. I can walk it just as easily." He withdrew, defeated by those eyes, by the embattlements that now separated the Japanese youth from his lover.

"Don't be fucking ridiculous. I will take you back to wherever you are staying and head off to the den." Hwoarang said, realizing he was in desperate need of a shower since yesterday, but once more, not really having the time. The Korean looked everywhere around the room, as long as it was not at Jin.

With a heavy breath, Jin whispered. "Okay." He had no fight left in him. His body was too weak from previous exertions and the devil within, draining his strength with its near transformation. His mind was shattered by Hwoarangs questioning and his inability to answer. The fear of what he could say was a gripping thing…how could his Seung Roh still want to be near him if he knew this terrible secret, so much more deadly than the guarded secret of his lovers' name.

The Blood Talon walked into the kitchen and grasped the keys still on the range from where he had thrown them in a drunken haze. Swirling them around his finger, he reached for the door. "Lets go."

The Motel room door was swung open, moving with the heavy breeze of the warm day. "What is this?" Jin hissed, stepping off the bike, even as Hwoarang remained seated.

The Japanese youth drew toward the open door, adrenaline rushing through his body as he cautiously approached, holding the flat of his palm against the door. What unfolded before him, was the last thing he expected to see. Everything was turned over or broken. The bed was resting against the wall, the small television laying on its face on the floor, the glass broken out of it. Curtains ripped off the walls, bathroom door hanging from its hinge. Even the dressers, Jin had not used, were emptied of their drawers and left strewn about the room. His suitcase was gone…everything he had brought with him from the small apartment in Australia…lost, forever. Jin could do nothing but stand in the room, his small destroyed world, a metaphor for the maelstrom.

Hwoarang leaned against the open door, flicking the ashes of his cigarette. He remained on the bike for a few minutes, debating whether or not to leave the Japanese youth in the mess that had undoubtedly unfolded itself. But, mad as he was, he could not bring himself to do that. And, with a languid motion, the Blood Talon drew himself off the bike and sauntered his way to the room that swallowed Jin.

"So, who did you piss off?" The Korean said as Jin stood motionless in a world of turmoil.

Jin did not answer, he could not. This went far deeper than a demolished motel room rented under an assumed name. This was an invasion…and whoever had come here looking for him intended for something far worse than broken sticks of furniture.

The Blood Talon walked deeper into the room, watching Jin survey the scene, broken by more than just the surroundings. He could not read his lovers mind…but he knew the feeling all the same. "Shit load of damage here. Who do you think did it?"

Jin was as still as a statue amidst the rubble of his world. "This has the force of Mishima Heihachi behind it. My father is not so brash…as this." He was not truly sure but from what he believed in his heart, this was not Kazuya. The younger Mishima's attacks would have been more severe, more blatant and unabashed.

Hwoarang nodded, watching Jin, his back still facing the Korean. "Well, that settles it then. You cant stay hiding out where Gramps can find you." He said, shuffling his boot against splintered debris.

"I have no where else to go." That was truthful. Any money he had, more than the little bit he carried in his wallet, was now gone. His bank card had been left in the safety box in the room which was torn open with sheers. "I will think of something." He added quickly, not wanting to lose more of his strength than he already had before the Blood Talon.

"Yeah. You have somewhere to go. You can stay with me. My apartment is big enough for the both of us." Hwoarang was veiling his words, still rife with anger at Jins failed omissions to his query.

"I could not ask that of you. That would be twice you have stepped between me and disaster. I would not put you in danger." _And being with me..is danger._

"Your not asking me, I am telling you." Hwoarang said, cracking his neck to the side, feeling the tension of the muscles and bones pop with the steady motion. "Got anything left here of any value?"

"I don't have anything left here and even less than that with me. Nothing but the clothes on my back." Jin said, feeling completely powerless in this crucial moment. He had nothing to offer Hwoarang, nothing to cover what expenses he would incur for food or shelter. It was frightening to believe that now, Jin truly had no one to turn to, no where to go. For the first time in his life, he was completely alone.

Jin did not want to tell Hwoarang a simple and unequivocal truth. Heihachi might know where Jin was hiding now…but it was Kazuya, a more prevalent danger, that knew where the Blood Talon lived and therefore, where Jin, could be found. His father had tracked Jin there, using demonic senses and completely opposed to the life his very blood son was leading, a sin.

Either way Jin turned, he was in a pincer movement…the sides were squeezing against him, forcing him into action, into the false security of running and hiding. He could not find redemption, no matter his choice of going left, or right at the proverbial fork in the road.

"Not asking you for anything. I will do what I have to do to keep you afloat." The Korean said, looking up at Jins back as he spoke. He had no worry for money, for the first time in his life, even if he did not say such out loud. Although still angry, upset at Jins lack of forthcoming information, the way he felt had not changed…and if Jin belonged anywhere, it was with him.

"I would not sleep well at night, beside you or apart from you, knowing you have been forced to spill your blood on the streets to provide me…with anything." Jin said, completely unable to face the thought of Hwoarang battling one street fight after the next to provide him with support. He was not helpless…he could find something.

Hwoarang wanted to reach out to Jin when we saw the Japanese beauty look over his shoulder to him. How alone his lover felt, how distant…as though the Blood Talon himself was no longer someone to be counted on. No matter the questions, the circumstances or the danger, the Korean was not going anywhere. "Come on, Jin. There is nothing here to look at but broken furniture. Let me take you back to my place and get you set up."

The Japanese youth had nothing he could say, even as he heard Hwoarang walking to the edge of the room, boots trodding over broken glass and debris. Jin was at the whim of the fates, and yet all crossroads seemed to lead to the Korean youth….his only chance of salvation amidst the wreckage of his own existence.

Jin rested his cheek against the Blood Talons shoulder as the two rode through the back alleys of Tokyo, believing it might well be the last time for something so candid and unguarded…and all under the guise of safety. Hwoarang had muttered about the area potentially being watch by Mishima Heihachi's men…that the back alleys might provide more cover to get between the motel and the Yurei district. The wind swallowed his next works but the Japanese youth recalled hearing something about Hwoarang being "more careful" this time.

The Korean looked over his shoulder with a quick motion, making sure they were not followed, he told himself, but in truth he wanted a glimpse of Jin with a cheek pressed against his shoulder. He was still angry, nestling himself behind the walls he created to protect himself…a barrier as quick to rise as the Blood Talon was quick to anger.

The two came to a skidding stop, back wheel tripping outward and Jin jolted upright from the force. They were back where it had all began, the Blood Talons apartment. The engine killed and Jin slowly rose off the back, his body still sore from the fight the day before and the events that had unfolded that evening.

Hwoarang drew his deadly legs over the edge and rose, striding to the door and unlocking it, waiting for Jin to enter before making sure the portal was secure. He did the same with his apartment door and tossed his keys back on the range.

"I have to hit a quick shower. Make yourself, well, at home." the Korean said, walking past Jin for the bathroom. He was still avoiding looking into Jins eyes, afraid his walls might come tumbling down if he let himself drown in those dark pools.

Jin nodded and removed his jacket. He needed a shower as well, but he would wait for the Korean to leave before he freshened himself up. In the mean time, he sat himself down on the couch, holding his head in his hands, trying to absorb all of this into his system. No matter how he wanted to strike, it was always Heihachi who struck first.

Hwoarang stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist, returning the razor and shaving cream to the bathroom medicine cabinet. He walked over to the bed, where everything from his army duffle was spilled, digging through it to find all the basic essentials. Deodorant, comb, fresh set of clothing. He had to reorganize all his shit, sooner or later.

He dressed, tossing the towel onto the floor in the bathroom till he came home later and could take the time to clean. Reaching into his dresser drawer, he withdrew a fist full of yen and a pack of cigarettes before walking into the living room, where Jin sat with his head in his hands. It was still too painful to look at the Japanese beauty.

"Here." The Korean said, handing over the money in his grip. Jin looked up, not comfortable with accepting it and after a moment, Hwoarang tossed it onto the coffee table. "Pick up some food for yourself and get whatever else you need. Cant live in the same fucking clothes, day in and day out."

Jin exhaled a thick breath. "When will you be back?" He wanted to say more but his lips just could not find the words.

"Don't know. Going to the den. Then, probably out with Chang for some pool and drinks. I wouldn't wait up." The Korean said with an icy edge to his voice. He tapped the fresh pack of cigarettes against the inside of his wrist before withdrawing the cellophane, walking to the door, pausing a moment…at a loss of what else to say. "Oh. Make a copy of the key and don't leave the door unlocked. Just be here when I get back since I am leaving you the only key."

Jin listened without saying a word as the Blood Talon walked out, locking the door behind him. He was left alone in his world once more…a world where nothing made sense, no escape from the walls closing in around him. No escape from himself.


	15. The Sword Makers Signature, Hidden

Chapter 14

The Sword Makers Signature, Hidden on the Blade

Lings laughter could be heard over the thrum of Tokyo street traffic, lingering like the scent of the first blossoms of a lotus flower, maneuvering in and out of the throng of humanity. She wiped her eyes with her dainty, pink painted fingernails before lifting a jokki of happoshu (large glass of low malt beer). Her glistening, high glossed lips no sooner wrapped around the rim of the glass as her eyes flickered like a churning pool to the figure walking past the Izakaya (an outdoor place to eat and drink).

"Jin!" the Chinese youth exclaimed, nearly bolting out of her seat as he passed the café. He turned quickly, looking in the direction of his name, only to find Ling Xiaoyu at a half seated at her table, Julia Chang and Steve Fox.

"Good afternoon." Jin said, his face stone set. Too much had happened in the past full day to give him any reason to smile, and this included seeing Ling….accompanied by the last person he cared to ever come into contact with again.

"Oh my god, Jin. How have you been? You left the club in rough shape last night!!" Ling laughed, jumping over to the edge of the Izakaya, grasping the Japanese beauty in for a hasty hug. But Jins eyes could not leave the figure of Steve, fumbling with his chopsticks, trying to capture Domburimono-katsudon

(rice with deep fried pork cutlet and egg) with their tricky grip, for a gaijin.

"I have been well." He said, knowing the moment the words left his lips, Ling did not believe him.

"Been staying at Hwoarangs?" She asked, drawing back. The mention of that name sent Steves eyes up to meet Jins. The intense gazes did not falter and Ling had to push Jin at the shoulder to make the Japanese youth snap out of it.

"What would make you think that?" he said, defensively and low enough that Ling was the only one who could hear him.

"Oh, just intuition, I guess." She said with a shrug. "Hey, Julia is taking Steve to play some Pachinko and then going uptown to see the Noh. They invited me a long…you want to come and be my handsome date? Its been an age since we went out and did anything together."

"I would no sooner disgrace my heritage by having that gaijin at the Noh." Jin said with a stern, heavy voice. First, Steve was trying to steal Hwoarang away from him…and now, he had moved onto his only true friend, Ling Xiaoyu.

"Alright then, so what are we doing?" Ling smiled, swaying to the side. "I don't really want to go see the Noh…its boring!" she whispered, leaning in to Jin as she spoke.

That made Jin smile. Maybe the entire world was not crumbling so long as the outer defenses, made of Lings friendship, remained intact. "Well, I just came from the dojo and I have to do some grocery shopping….get a copy of a key made…and buy some clothing."

"Yeah, that reminds me. What's this rumor your doing Shotokan now?" She asked, while trying to run down in her mind the best places to do everything in as few stops as possible, stores that were in close proximity to meet Jins needs.

"That's a long story. Lets just say, I want nothing to do with the Mishima line…ever again and that comes with a new sense of fury. And that includes the art." He scratched the back of his neck, throwing a quick glance to Steve, watching the Brit receive a tutorial from the Native American girl, Julia Chang, on the proper use of chopsticks. "I really should go."

Ling bit the edge of her lip. "Let me go make my excuses and I will go with you." She smiled, mischievously. "Besides, I am sure these two want some alone time..if I have to hear one more Kinky story about him, I might puke!"

Jin was not sure whether to snicker about that…or find offense. Undoubtedly, if such stories were truth…Hwoarang had better knowledge of it than Julia. That made the Japanese youth stone set his jaw. Hardened eyes finally turned away as the duo spoke with Ling and Jin found his feet already moving.

"Hey!" Ling called out, catching up to the Japanese youth a full block later. "You have a real patience problem."

"I am sorry. I just could not stand to be around…him." Jin hissed, licking over his dry lips to fight back the urge to let free a string of curses that were so unlike his personality, and completely an assimilation of all his time with Hwoarang.

"Okay, so have you seen the posting for the tournament? It came out this morning!" Ling said, walking beside Jin. "Hey, go left, theres a great set of shops down there. We can get you some fun, American style clothing."

Jin rolled his eyes. He recalled what it was like to shop with Ling but followed her request none the less. "No, I was going to stop there…on the way, well, on the way to where I am staying." It wasn't home. Even if Hwoarang called it that. Things were too strained between them right now for it to be anything more than a temporary place to stay.

"Your never going to guess who I get to fight." She said with a wicked smile. "Go ahead, guess!"

"With my luck today, it is probably me who you will face off against, right?" Jin said with a heavy sigh, looking along the shops that were coming into view.

"Nope, Hwoarang." She said with a tilt of her head, nearly bounding in front of Jin. "I almost feel bad about having to hurt your…well, boyfriend. So, I hope you forgive me in advance."

Jin nearly blanched at the words. Not just because Ling had categorized them into a relationship, without knowing how far from the truth that seemed right now, but because that was a fight he would never want to see take place. Not when the two of them had forged a shaky but growing friendship. "That is a fight that I could not even begin to place a favorite on, Ling. Either one I support, I will not find solace. Just be..careful."

"Oh no you don't, you better tell that redhead to be careful, not me." She said with determination before letting the concern Jin felt fly from her. "Oh, look at those jeans, all frayed at the end. How Western Hippie-Chic. Come on, lets go try some on."

Hwoarang found the door unlocked as he stumbled in, his body sore, the corner of his mouth cut from a damn lucky set of combo punches during training for the new recruits. Some of them had particular talent, and it was to those few he devoted his time and effort. Afterward, he went out with several members of the den to drink the night away and hustle down some extra cash at the pool table.

It was quiet in the apartment as the Blood Talon made his way into the kitchen, flicking on the light switch and narrowing his eyes. He opened the refrigerator to withdraw a long neck bottle of beer and to his surprise found a single shot of whiskey on the counter next to a covered over plate of food. Quirking a brow, he lifted the foil back and took a sniff of the contents, eyes trying to focus. Home made sushi. To his knowledge he did not known a tatami mat to roll it in?

The Blood Talon came through the kitchen, looking to the table, which had been cleaned up, the tattered remnants of last night swept away. He could see Jin sitting on the couch, one leg folded under his body, ankle tucked below the knee in a pair of frayed jeans and a white tee shirt, wearing a pair of black rimmed glasses with a book open on his firm thighs.

Jin looked up from his book but said nothing else and returned to reading the same paragraph for a second time as Hwoarang walked passed him and into the bedroom. Even that was clean and..straightened. All of the shit he had left laying on the bed was gone, the coverlet returned to the bed without a single crease. He stepped into the bathroom, also clean, and opened the medicine cabinet to find everything had been placed neatly on two sides, razor, deodorant, comb that a belonged to the Blood Talon and another set of similar items, new and belonging to Jin.

Taking a deep breath he stepped into the bedroom once more, opening the wardrobe to find his dobok hung and pressed, clothing neatly folded…everything organized down to the duffel that smelled of laundry soap, tucked at the bottom. When Hwoarang turned, he found a handful of yen still on the dresser with receipts.

If the Blood Talon ever felt like a shit-heel before, it was nothing compared to this. Yes, he had opened his home to Jin, gave him the financial resources to set himself up in this apartment…but he did not expect the apartment to be cleaned, laundry completed and dinner and whiskey awaiting his return home. He felt guilty…for having stayed out so long for fruitless bullshit, when he should have been here, with Jin…fixing the things that were going wrong between them. Jin had his secrets, and they were his own to keep, even as much as Hwoarang wanted answers. He would have to respect them as they came…or end up losing what he wanted most, through no fault but his own damn temper and the imposed prison he was putting Jin into.

The Korean stepped outside the bedroom and into the living room where Jin was reading by the small end table lamp, versus the overhead light. He stopped in front of the Japanese youth as Jin looked up, connecting eyes for the first time since this whole argument began. "Since when do you wear glasses?" He said to break the ice.

Jin slowly began to remove them, clipping the arms together as he looked into those slightly hazy amber eyes. "For about a year now, but only for reading." He said softly.

"Look, about this morning." Hwoarang never expected those words to leave his lips but the moment felt right. "I don't expect you to spill your life story to me…but whatever you are going through, Jin, is affecting me to. You don't have to say anything right now but at some point, I need some answers."

Jin nodded softly, placing his glasses down in the book he was reading, the only pleasure purchase he made at a second hand book shop for a scant few yen. He kept an indwelling tally of how much money Hwoarang had allowed him to spend. The Japanese youth would be sure to pay it back to the last cent.

"I understand." Jin said softly. _If only it was that easy, Seung…to tell you everything you want to know. I have dragged you in so deep now that our lives are entwined as thick as our blood. I am sorry for what I have done to you…_

"I just need time to..sort everything out. I need it to make sense to me…before I can think of giving you the answers you want." Jin said, with as much meaning in his voice as their was truth.

Hwoarang drew closer to where Jin sat, on the couch, leaning his bruised knuckles on the arm of the leather couch. Only then could the Japanese youth see the fading black electrical burns that traveled up the Koreans arms, another reminder of anguish, of pain he had cost his Seung.

"I trust you, Jin. Even if trusting is not in my nature." Hwoarang said, raising those bruised knuckles to brush against a smooth angular cheek. "I know your world has gone to shit, baby. But I am still here."

Hwoarang was so close to him, Jin could feel a jolt through his skin. In the light, the Blood Talons eyes were not only amber, but rimmed with a nearly sienna brown that purely was captivating. "And I am thankful for that, Seung. More than you could ever know."

The Korean youth leaned against Jin, his head tilting slightly to the side, framed by copper dripping tendrils, caressing the line of such perfectly narrowed eyes. Soft velvet met warm silk as his lover opened to him, feeling the soft trepidation of Jins slick tongue meet in the wealth of that moist, enticing cavern. He breathed his Japanese beauty in, with every fiber of his being, letting the kiss meld into something soft, something priceless.

Jin gave himself to that hot twine, slowly increasing with every lap of their attached mouths. His hands drew up to Hwoarangs neck, brushing the smooth flesh as he felt the Korean kneel on the leather couch. He clung to his lover like the last vestige of sanity, drawing the Korean closer. Hwoarangs arms melted into the small of Jins back, knuckling the leather to get the hold on that perfect body.

The Japanese youth freed a hand from Hwoarangs neck, traveling down the Blood Talons tee shirt to the line of his jeans, popping the catch open with an almost sense of expertise.

Hwoarang broke the kiss, his lips red from the pressure, matching the flush of those perfect, porcelain features. His breath came much quicker past his lips as he felt Jins hand slide into the tight denim and underclothing.

"I want you, Seung." Jin moaned, his eyes holding the image of the Korean, lashes tightly closed, lips curled back slightly with the sudden, unexpected stroking that took place in those overly tight jeans.

"Baby, that hand..is golden." Hwoarang moaned, letting free a slow, easy moan as his lover stroked his already rigid flesh. One hand freed from behind Jins back to brace himself on the arm of the couch.

"I know…what you like..and how you like it." Jin moaned, untucking his leg from beneath his body and throwing his strong, denim clad appendage over the arm of the couch, beside Hwoarangs bracing hold. "I need you…so desperately." He moaned, not caring about the coy play he normally followed, the uncomfortable, slightly nervous display of his desire. None of it mattered now…and it should never have mattered then.

"Fuck baby…" Hwoarang hissed when he felt Jins other hand move from his neck to draw down the denim, freeing his stiff flesh as his lovers grip tunneled around him. He opened his eyes, withdrawing from around Jins spine to unlatch the clasp of the new jeans his beauty wore. "Lift your hips…"

Jin did just that, using the hand that had been trying to strip Hwoarang down to draw the well fitting jeans from his own body, letting them pool near the Koreans boots as he arched on the leather, thighs akimbo, body pressed back. Jins spine melded to the leather, bent and ready.

Hwoarang moved between those parted legs, raising his bracing arm to the pillowy down of leather to the side of Jins head. His lover sunk further into the couch, virtually opening himself in such an incredible, wanton display. Amber held sable…nothing to be said but the heavy lilt of ragged breath.

Jin raised his hand, spitting into his palm, grasping the Koreans length with both hands and stroking his saliva into the pink, rigid flesh.

"Fuck baby, its like that, huh?" Hwoarang groaned as his back arched, feeling two distinct hands spreading fluid from the base to the tip of his cock.

"Yeah…its like that." Jin groaned, releasing one hand to spit down again, relubricating the tip that would break him open. "Take me, Seung…" he said, half proud, half begging. There was no modesty left in a moment such as this.

The Korean groaned, heavily, raising his hand to his mouth and sinking two fingers into the hot depths, swirling them against his tongue before withdrawing them…and pressing them to the already visible tight pucker in his view. They sank in deep for a long moment as Jin let free an audible wail. Hwoarang returned the digits to his mouth, suckling back his lovers taste and rewetting the fingers…only to rub them against that perfect ring of muscle.

"Seung…" Jin groaned, squirming as he guided that firm length against his own entrance. "Make me scream."

The Blood Talon grasped Jins legs, pressing them over his shoulder as his lover guided him to the anxious corridor, positioning the red, throbbing crown to the muscle.

"I wont stop..until you do." Hwoarang hissed, leaning against Jin, wrapping his hands beneath his Japanese beautys' shoulders…forcing his lover forward, forcing Jin onto his aching shaft.

Jin cried out as that first, powerful motion forced his narrow channel to fill itself with the Koreans cock, at the same time feeling Hwoarang thrust in powerfully to the hilt. His eyes rolled back as his fingers wrapped around the Blood Talons forearms, overcome with the hot, unifying sensation. "More of you…Seung."

The Blood Talon leaned down, taking that hot, arching mouth as he thrust in, holding himself buried deep, letting the sensation of two twining tongues give to desperation…breath life into burning lungs, until Jin broke free, releasing a heavy mewl of pleasure.

Hwoarang withdrew completely…watching Jin bite at the air as his eyes fluttered open, longing for the overfilled sensation that suddenly left him. "Don't close your eyes, Jin…you know how I love to watch your eyes…" he said with a cool, heavy smile that dripped control. The Korean slowly teased the ring, letting his rosy crown circle the muscle, hearing Jins protesting breath, pleading so silently for what he needed. And, just at that moment when his lover could no longer take the absence, Hwoarang thrust in with all the strength of his hips and watched Jin fight to keep his eyes open.

"Hurts." Jin made out, his neck arching with a hot fluster of perfect blissful agony.

"And you fucking love it…" The Blood Talon moaned, using short, shallow thrusts to emphasize his words. "You want more baby? Make me hurt you."

Jin groaned, trying to rock his body deeper into Hwoarangs torturously short motions. He knew his lover was drinking in the agony of his eyes. "Seung…" He managed, frustration building as one hand grasped his swollen length, letting his thumb brush the underside, stimulating the heavy, throbbing vein.

"Make me hurt you." The Korean said, this time in a much more commanding tone. How he fucking loved to watch Jin stroke himself…it only added fuel to his fire.

Jin let out a garbled hiss, biting the edge of his lip, flooded with anxiety and desire. Secretly, he loved this game as much as Hwoarang. His free hand lifted, taking the Blood Talons and placing it against his throat, feeling the hot pressure there and holding the powerful arm at the wrist…changing the rules, yet again.

"Please…Seung…" He managed as the Koreans eyes nearly glowed in the spilling light, feeling that perfect throat beneath his fingers…and the heat of Jin trying to rock and thrust up into his own hand at the same time. "Hurt me…break me open….don't stop…till you make me bleed." His voice was so desperate, so completely sure of what he wanted…

"Fuck…baby…how can I refuse." The Blood Talon hissed, never hearing and feeling Jins need so acutely. His fingers tightened around the porcelain flesh in his grip, tight enough to make breath come more labored, but never enough to truly suffocate his lover. He thrust in deep, hard, driving himself into Jins body till he could hear his tight sac slap against his lovers own, the front of his thighs meeting the back of Jins….with a hot slap of flesh that grew to a frenzy.

Jins eyes nearly rolled back as he stroked his length against his palm, rolling his hips to counter every thrust that sent Hwoarang spiraling inside of him. He felt the battering fleshy crown hit deep inside, making his body arch in a heavy, hot rhythm…. "Please…Seung…like that…Oh, God…like that."

The pace was blinding, the power nearly bone breaking. Jin took him, took all of him…blow for blow like that first fight in the back alleys of Korea. He felt that narrow, velvet channel squeeze, threatening to break his rigid flesh in half…the rhythm was strict, deep, primal…and blissfully painful for his eager, masochistic beauty. "Yeah, like that. Fuck, Jin…fuck you get me there…too damn fast." He could not slow his breathing enough to distract himself.

Jin stroked himself off with such powerful motions, he could feel his own core clenching around the onslaught of every deep, crushing thrust. "Seung…please…say it…I need..to hear you say it." His face was flushed as red as the blood he could smell from his lovers pistoning thrusts…the hot crack of fissures inside of him like metal yielding to water.

The Blood Talon rolled his neck back, unable to keep the pace for much longer without losing himself in that perfect, hot corridor. His fingers tightened along Jins neck, feeling his lovers nails bite into his wrist..eyes connected to emphasize the words Jin longed to hear, the words that were truth. "You. Are. Fucking. Mine. Do you hear me, Jin…you…belong…to me."

Jin cried out, his fisted fingers moving with such intense, spiraling motions, the preslick was starting to leak with fury from his crown. He believed in those words, let them wrap around him, made with a point at every thrust. Hwoarang hurt so much inside of him…so much he swore his body would break at this pace. "Seung…I can feel it…" He nearly whimpered, belayed by a heavy breath that masked the near scream on his lips.

The Blood Talon was overcome by that milking core, every hot thrust spiraling him with such incredible pressure to an end. "Let…Tokyo…hear…who…you fucking…belong to…" He hissed, arching over Jins body all the more, driving himself to the very edge as his crown threatened to break open that pleasure nub deep inside of Jins body.

Jin pressed Hwoarangs fingers deeper against his throat, feeling the breath constricted, heightening every sensation the Blood Talon fed him with. He whimpered with such desire, he swore he was outside of himself as the onslaught continued. Jin could not stop the dam from bursting…could not take another hot lick inside of him… "Seung!" He screamed out…stroking himself till his body spilled heavy ribbons of seed against Hwoarangs clothed chest and chin…trickling down like white rain onto his own torso.

"Fucking…mine." The Korean cried out, feeling the hot splash, watching the heavy eruption leave his lovers tip…his eyes narrowed, body coming to a heavy convulsion as he forced himself to press deep into Jin…hold himself there…as an eruption as hot as lava filled his lovers narrow, gripping core. "Fuck!" He managed once more, back spasming, sending him into violent convulsions as he fed Jin on his very essence.

Jin sucked back a breath, his length still hard against his fingers. He felt his lovers hand loosen about his throat, even as his core tingled with the sudden hot explosion inside of him. The Japanese youths' chest wracked with heavy breath as Hwoarang convulsed before him, head hanging low as the sensations slowly ebbed.

"God damn, baby." the Korean managed, withdrawing slowly, sitting down on the coffee table, jeans still around his thighs. "You fucking destroy me."

Jin leaned up, feeling his back crack from the release of pressure. He leaned forward, grasping the Blood Talon and kissing him with such fever, such need…it was the only thing to give him the sense of cessation of his starvation.

"We destroy..and rebuild..each other." He said with a hot, slow moan, pressing his forehead to Hwoarangs, finding his breath catch against the rim of his lips as his body rocked slowly. "I can still feel you..moving inside of me, Seung. Oh, god…" He whimpered, holding onto his lover as the aftershocks rode through him.

Hwoarangs hand brushed Jins chest, tainting the skin with glistening, cooling slick before reaching his fingers to his lips, letting the salty sweet taste invade his senses.

"Fuck baby..I am ready for round 2" Hwoarang purred, forcing Jins chin upward to meet his lips, twining his tongue with the feral ferocity of a beast who had tasted blood and now, needed more of it.

"So..am I." Jin said, breathlessly, eyes holding Hwoarangs as though the world itself was locked in that amber gaze.

The Blood Talon took the shot of whiskey, savoring the flavor in his mouth for a long moment. He chased the rich amber liquid with a fresh roll of Sushi, eating with gusto, enjoying the homemade flavor. The taste of wasabi, though not nearly as strong as Korean pepper paste, made his features flush. How could Jin ever know this was his favorite food?

"Do you always eat sushi, naked?" Jin asked with a smile, leaning against the wall of the kitchen. He had just started to drift off to sleep after that promised second, and equally intense round with the Korean, when he felt the Blood Talon move…only to find him here, eating sushi naked, in the kitchen.

"Well, I do like it raw baby. Nice job, considering you don't eat meat." Hwoarang smiled, licking his lips of the Wasabi, imagining what the strong flavor would taste like when mingled with Jins perfect, equally spicy flesh.

"Not much talent to it, just have to roll up the raw fish." Jin laughed, shaking his talused mane.

"Yeah, well, for someone who doesn't eat meat, you sure do take it easy down the throat." Hwoarang said with a purr and a raise of his dark brows, unable to keep himself from a laugh at his own words. It was the first time Jin had ever elicited a pure laugh from the Blood Talon.

"If actual meat was as tasty as your skin, I might reconsider my choices." Jin said, drawing into the kitchen, the hem of his sleep pants captured beneath the heels of his feet. The Japanese youth reached into the refrigerator for a bottle of water, one of the many things he had bought while out on a shopping excursion with Ling.

"You should get some sleep baby, its almost 6am." Hwoarang said, tossing back another roll of sushi, unable to quench his well earned hunger. "You have a fight at 11."

"And you have one at 10. Don't you think you should be getting some sleep? Ling is certainly going to be bright eyed. But then again, when isn't she?" Jin took a swig of water, finding himself incredibly dehydrated after a night of hedonistic, sinful pleasure in his lovers bed..

"Ling? I am taking on the midget? Why didn't you tell me? Aw, shit. That sucks." Hwoarang groaned. The only information he had heard was the time and destination of his fight, not who the opponent was. That was what he was rewarded with for failing to check his resources and nearly drinking to the edge of his own, considerable limit.

"Don't…hurt her, alright?" Jin asked softly, watching Hwoarangs eyes. His own filled with concern. Ling was his friend…and the Korean, his lover. Neither one of them would take a loss well…and no matter who won the match, Jin was torn.

"I don't want to..but I cant make any promises…shit." He groaned. "Well, now I am definitely not going to sleep, I have to form a game plan."

"Game plan?" Jin asked, taking a long swallow of the cold water, enjoying the cool feeling sliding down his throat.

"Yeah. I don't want to hurt her either. The midget is…well, alright. But don't fucking tell her I said that." The Blood Talon half smiled, popping another roll of sushi in his mouth. "Hey…I have a couple of these little delights left. What do you say we get…kinky?"

Jin laughed, recapping his water. "Suck the meat out of it and maybe we will see what we can do."

"Have I ever refused sucking some meat, when your involved?" The Blood Talon smiled wickedly, licking his lips as soon a those vulgar words left the shelter of them.

"I cant say I recall that ever being a problem." Jin smiled, leaning against the counter, feeling Hwoarangs hand come around his narrow, firm waist before slipping dangerous fingers against the tied off front of his pajama bottoms. The reaction was instant and wanton…


	16. Incantations on the Blade

Chapter 15

Incantations on the Blade

The King of Iron Fist, Round of 8

Ling Xiaoyu Vs. Hwoarang

Steve Fox Vs. Julia Chang

Jin Kazama Vs. Violet

Kazuya Mishima Vs.Lei Wulong

Hwoarang flicked off the burnt down end of his cigarette, watching the slight embers spark as the spent cylinder toppled from the cradling breeze to the hard concrete. For all his recollections, he had never been inside of the largest mall in Uptown Tokyo..or any mall for that matter. Not really his speed. But, if it was not for the hellish attempt to capture true lighting, and the taste of stagnant re-circulated air…he would have marveled at the way the Japanese architects had brought the outside, indoors.

"Disrespectful wretch!" Ling said, hands on her hips, pigtails still swinging from the sudden motion that forced her to whirl around. "Where do you get off being late to our match?"

Hwoarang let a smirk taint his lips as he looked to Ling, her body still moist from preparation and stretching. "Had more important things get off." the innuendo, dripping from the corners of his mouth, left nothing to the imagination.

"Don't you ever think about anything else?" the Chinese beauty crinkled her nose but could not help that smile. If the Korean youth ever stopped being his sarcastic, high strung, fiery self, she would find her grasp on the world had fled her fingertips. Some things might change, but never Hwoarang. That was comforting. "Well, enough about that, already. Your in for the fight of your life!"

"Since when do you smack talk, midget? You cant psyche me out. Period." Hwoarang said, jolting with a sudden, agile motion that left his untied dobok top slithering against his muscular upper body. One leg shot up, held at the height of his shoulder, before the Korean swung the deadly appendage around with complete poise and control you would never expect from a thug. "You ready to dance, midget?"

"Dance with you, never. Kick your ass, most definitely." Ling said with a smile, drawing into a 'false salute taunt'.

"Well then, lets not keep the referee waiting." Hwoarang fell into Right Flamingo, a smile planted over his lips, even if his heart felt suddenly, heavy.

Ling sat on crossed legs before Hwoarang, long after the officials had left and the match was recorded. There was nothing she could say for those long moments but look into the Blood Talons amber eyes…never before noticing how crisp they were…never before, truly appreciating the intense skill the roguish criminal possessed.

Hwoarang knelt, his breath coming hard enough to make his ribs shiver inside his chest cavity. It had been a hard fought battle, doubled by the fact the Korean had not had a wink of sleep in 24 hour period….with constant, strenuous exercise to drain his body. He felt the effects of it now…in this incredible moment.

"Good fight." Ling said softly, watching Hwoarang still glistening with sweat, long coppery tendrils splaying across his angular cheeks in chunky splashes. It was no wonder Jin could not keep himself from the Korean.

"I'd like to think so. You hurt?" The Korean asked with uncharacteristic concern..which Ling picked up on and smiled.

"I think I strained some muscles and my face feels a little tight…but otherwise, I think I am alright." The tournament round was a long one and though the Korean would never admit it, he was holding back on her. And she had been doing the same. Fighting and friendship made for strange bed fellows.

"Yeah, my hip is acting up, think you landed a few good ones there." The Korean rose slowly, offering Ling a hand up. The area just to the side of his hip was still sore from Jins teeth, the torn skin was slow to reknit itself. "I gotta make a few stops before I pick Kazama up from his match, want me to ride you anywhere?"

Ling shook her head. "I think I need to walk some of this off. Wonder how Steve and Julia are doing in their match…talk about awkward. Ever think about having to fight Jin…in the tournament?"

Hwoarang took the last drag of his cigarette, walking onto the street with Ling. "Yeah, I think about it sometimes." he said, honestly. "But getting that side of my fire up is not something I look forward to. Damn near destroyed everything between us the last time I could not get my shit in control, dwelling on that one fight that changed my life. I don't want that to happen again, you know?"

"Your not the same person you were then, Hwoarang." Ling smiled, tilting her head to the side and wincing slightly as she found yet another strained muscle. "And neither is Jin. If you both have made it this far, maybe its for the long haul." She paused and looked out over the street, following Hwoarangs eyes to his American motorcycle. Probably the one thing he loved as much as Jin. "Did you tell him yet?"

Hwoarang watched the sun glinting from the polished chrome on his bike, recalling the day, two years ago, he had ridden up to find Jin at the school after being detained by Wulong for that little bar room scuffle. "No, not yet. Then again, he isn't saying much either, too much shit on his plate right now to complicate things with my feelings."

"Maybe that is what he needs to take some of the things off his plate." Ling said with an honesty, masked as innocence.

"Maybe theres some logic to that, Midget." The Blood Talon kicked his shin guards against the concrete, lost in thought for a moment. "Well, hey, I gotta get going. Maybe we will catch you up later at the club, if Jin isn't too beat up by this Violet guy." Hwoarang did not like the idea of anyone laying violent hands on Jin during a fight…not even himself. But he knew Jin could take whatever his opponent was dishing out.

"That sounds good. Alright, see you later." Ling said with a smile, already walking off as Hwoarang moved to his bike, leaning against the leather and chrome to remove his shin guards and slide his boots on.

"It has been a long time, Kazama Jin." The Violet haired man said with a smile, smoothing the pinstripe white slacks that had bunched against his hips during his stretching. His legs would never again be what they had been, in the prime of his youth. It was penance for turning his back on Kazuya and helping Mishima Heihachi find a way into the King of Iron Fist Tournament 2.…his art nearly lost when he had attempted to make good on the wrongs he had committed….at the vicious stomping of Heihachi's geta feet.

Twenty years had passed and Violet had come through the worst of it to be standing across from Kazama Jin now. It was amazing, this sense of generation, looking to his opponent as though seeing a young version of his step brother, reborn to glory.

Jin narrowed his eyes, arms held at his sides as he watched the older man draw up to full height. "How do you know me? Have we met before this?" There was paranoia in the Japanese youths voice.

"You were but a child in the mountains. But yes, you could say our fates are tied…through one string or another." Violet commented, still unable to tear his eyes from the youths features. How like the father, the son had become…the same handsome, sturdy features tempered like a blade with Kazama Juns soft, almost demure nature. Such gifts to bear and with it, equal portions of curse.

There was little doubt Jin would have carried the curse of his father, an entity Violet knew almost too well…for too long. That feeling surrounded Kazuyas' son…the difference residing in the lack of vehemence to use the dark gift and it read like a battle waging behind Jins dark eyes.

Jin strained to recall from his childhood, where he could have met the purple haired man. It was obviously a disguise and that made the reckonings of his young mind feel…blurred. He recalled Lei Wulong…and another, though the memory was fuzzy at best…Jin would have been all but 5 years old then. One recollection did stand out, the sword cane and cut on the arm…but the thought could not find complete connection.

"You will think on my words later, Kazama Jin. For now, the referee is waiting." Violet said with a smile, falling into hitman, leaning heavy weight on his left leg, right more open and ready to strike, should the boy be foolish enough to move too close.

Jin came into stance, his eyes watching his opponent closely. He swore he could almost see the indignance of youth behind older flesh..a aura that made him taste the color silver..the color of a sword reaching back to swing the arc of ages, slicing time as it cut its path. He would have time to think on this revelation…later….

Hwoarang found the front door to the den open and narrowed his eyes. He listened for a moment, finding the run down insides of the makeshift thieves quarters to be..quiet. Unusually quiet. The blackening roots beneath dyed copper tendrils on the back of his neck, felt suddenly electrified.

Quirking a dark brow, Hwoarang pushed the door open and stepped inside. No one was milling about, no frantic repairs made to broken and bruised flesh. There was nothing but the echo of silence, deafening to the Koreans ears.

The Blood Talon made his way into the confines, eyes scanning the area as he drew along the hallway to the sparring room the den had set up. That's when he saw the first signs of struggle…two sand bags that should have been directly across from the hall were destroyed, dripping what granuals remained…blood on the walls, starting to brown with exposure to the air…

"What the fuck?" He charged past the hallway and into a scene of unfolding disaster. Bodies lay strewn about, some of the new recruits and older gang members, propped against the wall, heavy with ragged breath…and the smell of flesh…and ozone. The room looked like a war zone…and in the center of it sat a man dressed in a deep purple, expensive suit, sunglasses covering his eyes…

"Kazuya!" The Blood Talons breath cut the air as his teeth clenched around that name.

"That is right, Hwoarang." the Younger Mishima said with a smile that dripped carnage. "Welcome home. I trust you like what I have done with the place." A taloned hand motioned outward with a sickening sense of elegance, gesturing over the broken, barely living bodies littered like trash along the sparring floor.

"You son of a bitch!" Hwoarang fell into stance, his body tense and ready…when he heard one dim voice echo like an undercurrent to his own.

"Seung…" the detached groan found Hwoarangs ears and he rushed over to find Chang, propped against the wall, holding onto his gut. Blood sputtered over his mouth like a froth…

"Chang. Hang on man…just hang on. I will get somebody…" Hwoarang said in a rush, holding his hand over his blood brothers.

"There will be no one to come, Hwoarang." Kazuya said as he rose. "Why have you done this to your own people? Do Koreans truly have no honour…or is it only Korean thieves?"

"Just..hold on for me, alright, Chang." Hwoarang said with a painful breath, forcing himself to stand upright and release his grip on his friends hand. He eyed Kazuya down, the rage building to destroy this man…and save as many of his den as he could…

"I expect an answer when I am addressing you." Kazuya stepped over a lifeless arm, the heel of his shoe crunching bone with a sickening snap. When no sound issued forth from below that foot, it was obvious no spirit inhibited the body that belonged to the arm.

"You sick mother fucker…" Hwoarang fell into stance, his lips curling back in a sneer.

"That was not the answer I expected, but then again, I assume you know no better." Kazuya hissed, watching the Korean fall back into stance. "You don't want to fight me boy….you will end up like all of these lovely little pillars of your society. Liars, cheats, thieves, all of them. How your kind try to corrupt polite society with your street demon ways." Kazuya continued to draw closer. "I warned you to stay away from my son. But you did not listen…continuing to infect his superior Japanese flesh…with vile Korean skin. How like a parasite you are, Hwoarang. To lay your seed into something pure, only to watch it corrupt and transform, to twist into something like yourself. You have forced my hand, Hwoarang."

"You will eat those words." Hwoarang could taste the ozone before the first manifestation of blue tinged lightning began to fork against Kazuyas arms. He felt the first twinge of sickness come over him as the younger Mishima slowly withdrew his glasses to reveal a glowing, nearly ephemeral red eye. "Its go time, old man."

"Somehow, I knew you would say that. And yes, it is now time to set all proper things in motion." Kazuya smiled, his hands protected by bright red gloves, held bands of brown blood as they drew up…the stench mingled with ozone as the blood fried at the iron rivets.

//_The scent of our blood is strong in this Korean rat. He has tasted much more of us, Kazuya…and that will bring the one we seek. Yes. He will come._//

Jin waited for as long as he could before walking back to the apartment. It had been nearly two hours and still no sign of Hwoarang. The area was desolate, barely a whisper of breeze to calm the worry at his lovers absence. Something had to be keeping the Korean unless, Hwoarang had forgotten him.

The Japanese youth opened the door and stepped inside, looking around for any signs of life or movement. Nothing. Hwoarang had not returned here without him.

Jin stepped into the bedroom, ready to change from the pair of black and white gi pants he had purchased and wore for the next round of the tournament….when a pull of his blood, like the ocean itself, forced him to lose his breath.

Agony shot through him as the Fatal Lightning swirled his arms. He stumbled, catching himself on the wall, eyes flickering open. A sound like a thunderclap beneath his skin, into his very core Chi resonated….and panic overcame him.

_Hwoarang._

It was a feeling that could only be explained in that one simple word, that street corner catch phrase of a persona that surrounded the Blood Talon like an aura. Something was horribly wrong. He did not know just how he knew it, or why he felt it so intrinsically but something told Jin, Hwoarang….Seung…was in danger…

Jin bolted off of the wall as red lightning swirled his body. He tore through the apartment and out onto the street, looking left to right…trying to recapture the feeling of pulling blood that filled him. "Seung…I am coming.."

The door to the "den" was wide open and Jin entered it slowly. There was no need to hide himself, no need to run…

Jin followed his gut instincts, knowing with the pull of his blood, the one he sought was here and close. He came through the hallway, the scent unfolding itself…as he moved. Blood and ozone, the stench of released electrical current…

As the Japanese youth moved from the confines of the long hallway, the overwhelming scene displaying before him. The bodies of at least 20 young street soldiers lay motionless on the floor, a flood of humanity covered over in the red rain of violence. There was an undercurrent of low moans of pain…and that drew Jins eyes up…

Kazuya sat amidst the scene like a feudal war lord presiding over victory, one leg crossed over the next. One hand dripped down to the side of the chair he languished upon, stroking copper dyed tendrils as though stroking a beloved pet.

Hwoarang was slumped against the side of Kazuyas chair, his eyes lowered as heavy breath issued from past bloodied lips. One arm cradled itself against the Blood Talons lap…and it seemed only the younger Mishimas stroking hand kept the Korean seated, upright.

Jins eyes narrowed as the fatal lightning coursed around him. "What have you done." It was less a question than a statement…the pain was returning, the sharp, dark sensation of flesh ready to rip at his shoulders as the Japanese youths gaze followed the stroking curve of Kazuyas fingers.

"With what, precisely? The thieves den…or this, useless thing?" The Younger Mishimas hand grasped Hwoarangs hair heavily, eliciting a pained groan from the unconscious Korean. With a powerful motion, Kazuya rose and dragged Hwoarang with him by those tendrils, streaks of blood making the copper seem faint compared to the splashes of crimson. Hwoarang, in the arms of blackness, was forced to move like a puppet onto his knees.

"I think it is a vast improvement…he looks well covered in my black and blue kisses. Skin so fair needs color, don't you agree, Jin?" Kazuya smiled, demonically. "But no, I do not suppose you find joy in the sadistic pleasures of life. Much too willing to let yourself be taken like a common whore by something so classless. Well, admire him now…before I steal the last spark from his eyes…"

Jin was trembling with rage, fighting back the devil within. "Get your hands off of him." He hissed, taking Hwoarangs entire bruised being into his vision before lunging at Kazuya.

The younger Mishima flung Hwoarang backward as the Korean groaned, head rolling to the side. He grasped Jin by the shoulders, talons ripping past the shirt his son wore…to see the bruised vision of shorn skin that was already healing. The font of the Koreans mouth had left a sturdy and disgusting mark. "That's right. Show me what you really are, Kazama Jin."

Jin was locked into Kazuya with his own hands, unable to move his father…and unable to be moved by him. Blue and Red lightning swirled, collided as the two held a stand off. The Japanese youths mouth began to ache as elongating canines extended…his nails slowly becoming talons that ripped into the expensive suit Kazuya wore.

"No!" He hissed, thrusting all his force into the shoulders he clasped, finally feeling Kazuyas body give with a sudden backward motion. His shoulders…were heaving, the flesh moving as though something…was growing beneath the surface, ready to break through.

//_His control is strong, but it is slowly beginning to slacken. I taste the nearness of our other half…but that damn Kazama blood is keeping from me what is mine./_/

Kazuya smiled darkly, eyes stone set on Jins face…watching the black markings etch over those features…only to shiver as though Jin was keeping them at bay by force alone. It was not the time…not yet. He had struck the first blow…but there would be more to follow…the wheels had been set in motion and that control the Devil spoke of, would indeed lose itself, soon enough. "I will have the devil inside of you…or I will destroy your lover. Do you hear me, Jin. The next blow..will be the fatal one. His death will be on your hands…"

Jin could barely catch his breath, his eyes stalking Kazuyas motions with deadly intent as his father calmly, almost placidly walked past him…down the long hallway…to the door. He could not battle them both, his father and the devil within himself…and either choice he made, Hwoarangs time was running out.

Not knowing what else to do, Jin rushed over to where the Korean lay…no longer giving a damn for what happened to himself or if Kazuya had truly left the den. He knelt down beside the Blood Talon tightened his hands into fists. There was a sound approaching, the echo of sirens….

…Jin grasped Hwoarang close to him, hearing the heavy gurgle of breath wrack past those bloodied lips. Unable to hold back the devil any longer, he let the feeling take him, abandoning all hope for himself as he cradled his broken lover. The markings returned, tribal obsidian, leaking down his skin like fresh ink, tingling the flesh at it moved. "Get him to safety." Jin managed before the distant sound of his own scream filled the room…

…black wings tore through flesh, unfolding with horrific majesty…sending Jin into convulsions as he wrapped himself around Hwoarangs body…a banished demon to protect a broken angel…


	17. Bathed in Water and Prayer

Chapter 16

Bathed in Water and Prayer

Hwoarang groaned, his eyes shut tight as pain wracked his body like a seizure. He raised up slightly, coughing up the taste of blood…hands wrapping around a bruised chest to stop the wracking pain in his ribs.

"Fuck" the Korean managed, spitting out the red tinged sputum that filled his mouth. That sick feeling was still with him, like an undercurrent to the agony his body suffered, the exhaustion that threatened to claim him into unconsciousness again.

Motion caught the side of Hwoarangs glance as he released his chest, grasping the cracked stone beneath him. Every muscle in his neck strained as he tried to turn his head, feeling like a trapped cat in a cage. "Who…who is there?"

The glint of silver reflection, like a cats eyes absorbing the available light, flickered….moon glow casting heavy on the crumbling stone walls outside of the overrun Korean temple. A figure, that could have been mistaken for a gargoyle shifted, black wings encircling a massive form…though its body was clad in pink skin, not made of the stone of this place.

"What…the fuck…" Hwoarang forced his sprained foot to push himself back, one arm pressed limp against his ribs as the other aided the attempt to flee. The Korean felt his back hit against hewn rock and drew himself up to an agonizing sitting position. His eyes never left the…thing.

"Show yourself!" He demanded through frothing lips, gasping for breath as another cough wracked his chest cavity.

The Devil, perched like a statue atop the rocks, suddenly shifted down to its haunches, the violent motion echoed by the resounding thud of boots on stone. Black wings unfolded with the position shift, arching out like fresh oily ink in the dripping white moonlight.

Silver eyes, the color of moon kissed reflecting pools, outlined in unnatural kohl shifted, the demons head tilting to watch the shaking red head, just feet away from him.

The Blood Talon held his breath, the agony was forgotten in this moment…and there was nothing but fear…nothing but complete incomprehension at the figure before him. So close to him, watching him, the Korean felt that sickness abate…with a shaking realization. Those eyes, cast in silver and moon wash…were Jins eyes. Even in the haze of heavy, unnatural visions before him, the very pulse of his blood…confirmed it. And the blood he felt in his mouth…was Jins own coppery font.

The Demons arms, etched in unholy tribal ink were fully extended as he watched the Korean…watched amber eyes widen in fear and repulsion. Silver scanned the quaking form, barely able to remain upright…and knew, as only a demon could…that this human Kazama Jin loved…was injured but not fatally.

//_You will not die of your injuries./_/

Hwoarang heard the voice in his head, like a reverb of speakers he could not shut down. His hand caught along the wall as his head turned, feeling a vile vibe rush through him, making him want to flee from this place…from this thing. He used the scant strength of his normally deadly legs to hoist himself upright against the wall, blinking so rapidly and breathing so heavily, he thought he might fall faint.

//_You are the one he covets. The one that tries to weaken us. I feel our blood inside of you, human. It is the only reason you…are not felled beneath my talons.//_

Hwoarang let free a silent scream, his eyes shutting tightly. "Get out..of my head…"

The Demon remained on its haunches, wings folded back, cocking its head to the side like a bird watching the worm dance on the edge of a branch. //_Does this voice not please you? Did you not want answers to your query?/_/

Hwoarang moved along the wall, shielding the side of his face, eyes still clenched shut tightly. _This is a dream. A terrible night terror_….if he believed it firmly enough, the creature would meld into his waking…

//_I am no dream, Blood Talon. I am what you have been seeking…I am the answer to everything you have questioned…I am him…and he..is me. And that makes you, ours_.//

"Jin!" Hwoarang let a scream tear from his lips, borne of pure fear and the sudden need for the safety of his lovers arms. The Koreans eyes opened, hearing the creature move.

The Demon drew to full height…bathed in the glow of lunar flares…highlighting every curve of a body Hwoarang knew better than his own…a face he would know, even if he had lost the power of sight.

//_When he found you, you were at the mercy of my Siring half…he has allowed me freedom in exchange for your safety. I have granted that…for the time being.//_

Hwoarang felt tears rush past his eyes, his body shivering against the cool, damp stone. It was all too much… "Jin! Please!" He screamed out again, this time his voice held no power, it was a mewl compared to a roar…and the Blood Talon could no longer stop himself from sobbing. "I'm…scared…"

The Demon turned its head once more, wings unfolding in a brilliant display, capturing the sky and its luminescence, blotting it out like a terrible shadow as the feathers twitched. //_NO_.//

The voice inside of Hwoarangs mind, screamed. It made the Koreans soul…shiver, his blood slake like fire as his heart rate increased. He was fighting off the sickness again, now like a wave over his spirit…as the creature struggled…

//_You will not…abate me…I will..drink of his tears…as you have drunk…of his body…NO!/_/

Hwoarang collapsed to his backside, his arms wrapping around his shoulders as he rocked, the back of his head hitting the stone wall to try to blot out the demons voice in his mind. He could not stop himself from the heavy sobs that broke past his lips, lamentations running the course of his angular cheeks. "No more…please…Jin…help me…God..help me.."

The Demon crashed down onto the mineral, knees connecting to cracked foundation as black wings shivered, standing upright like a vulture preparing to take flight. Claws ripped at the molded stone and the creatures face shot up into the moonlight.

Silver eyes shifted between blackness and glow, the Devils lips forming the words into vocal speech, "Seung".

Obsidian feathers crashed down like the shattering of glass, sending an inky cascade like black water tides out onto the stone. The markings abated…and Jin…coughed heavily, head dropping down as his body tensed on all fours before Hwoarang.

"Seung Roh…" Jin barely managed, reaching a hand out to the shivering Korean, only to fall onto the stone on his stomach. His body was drained, the transformation had taken so much of his energy, he could barely remain awake.

The Korean youth could not get his head around this whole event, could not understand it…fathom it..or believe it. Where the demon had fallen, Jin emerged…and it was all too much for Hwoarang to take.

"I am…sorry…" Jin tried to croak through the scant thread of consciousness he held on to. He had no strength to turn his head…no will left to hold onto as the blackness took him from everything he loved…from the only one…he loved.

(chapter Break)

Hwoarang sat in place, long into the night, watching Jin breath at a steady pace, still on laying on his torso; cheek pressed against the cool stone. He could not bring himself to move, the pain and the terror had been too great. None of this day and night had made any sense…in just a few short hours, the Blood Talons world had turned itself upside down.

Jin. This was the secret the Japanese youth had been hiding. The tattoo, the sickness, the silvery eyes, the feathers, the taste of blood Hwoarang could not get enough of, all led to this. How could he have known? How in the rational world, filled with logic and equal reaction, could the Korean ever believe the closely guarded secret his lover harbored…was…demonic. It was like something out of a nightmare or twisted dark fairytale…startling. But it was real. All of it…real.

Hwoarang closed his eyes tightly, trying to block it all out. How could he love what he did not know, what he could not understand. He wanted Jin more than anything in his life, had feelings stir inside of him that never before roused a pulse to his heart. And now, to love Jin…he had to accept what he had seen…and the Korean youth did not know that he could do that, not now…not after this.

_A fucking demon!_ The thoughts played itself over in his mind. _Inhuman. Evil. Borne from the Western idea of HELL, _something that did not exist in his upbringing in the Buddhist and Korean Shamanistic teachings, even if he did not follow them…never giving a shit about enlightenment or inner peace_. No such thing as inner peace when you are hustling down cash on the streets..Buddha wasn't going to make food appear in a small hut before a starving boy…_

If Hwoarang had been in his homeland, he would have sought a Mudang (Shamanistic spiritual advisor). He wondered if any jeomjip (Korean fortune telling establishment) existed on Japanese soil. Although the practices of ancient Shaman rites had been reduced to bright color costumes in a cultural parade…they were still revered…and ingrained in the Korean spirit…a jeomijip or Mudang only to be sought out when the obstacles of world and spirit…required intense, divine attentions.

It was too much to take. Hwoarang waited until sunrise, until he knew Jin was still alive…if a demon bound in flesh could ever be alive, and rose slowly, using the wall to brace himself upward as he stifled his groans of pain. He shuffled toward the inside of the temple, using the stone to hold himself until he was deep inside the ruined place.

For the first time in his life, since his mother had departed him, never to be seen again, Hwoarang felt the need to pray. The temple interior was in ruins, but as amber eyes looked for the signs, he found them, untouched by the superstitious Japanese.

The mud pond was undisturbed and uncared for, yet the wild lotus flower blossomed there. It was a calling to Hwoarang, who bent down to the side of the nearly fuschia bud, letting his shaking fingertips cradle the delicate, stunted flower. It was a symbol of the teachings of Buddha…untainted as the founder of the religion…and yet, symbolic of the cause and effect of humanity. It had to be a sign.

Hwoarang walked slowly toward the next, important space in the ruined Korean Buddhist temple, passing the sigal tattered tapestry of the circle and a circle and three specifically placed dots. The dots were representatives he learned of the three jewels of Buddha…the Buddha itself, the Dharma teachings of Buddha and the Sangha Disciplines of Buddha. The circle was represented as the mind…the fundamental form of the whole universe, without worldly distinctions such as good or bad.

The Blood Talon was walking in the right direction. He passed the Man, Korean word for the Buddhist cross,…the symbol for good fortune and compassion of Buddha himself. And there, in the expansive ruins of the temple worship room, stood the symbols, the instruments he needed.

The dharma drum, the wooden fish, the cloud-shaped gong, and a large brahma bell. Each of these instruments could emit sounds that would save the beings of other worlds…and it was now, to his childhood, Hwoarang sought the recollection of ancient prayers and chants.

The dharma drum. Hwoarang lifted the long abandoned sticks and slowly beat against it…long unused Korean chants rising to his lips as he offered a prayer to save all beings living on earth…the drum slowly finding a rhythm nearly forgotten, to recall to the mind Buddhas teachings.

The slow drum roll came to a close and Hwoarang moved with half slit eyes to the faded, painted wooden fish. He tried to recall, to all his ability, the tale meant to be told. He raised the sticks once more and began the slow rhythm on either side of the hollow painted symbol.

Long time ago, there was a monk who committed unwholesome deeds. He died and was reborn as a fish with a tree on its back. The Monk's old master was crossing the river, and the fish came to him sadly. The master looked into its past life and held a memorial ceremony to save the fish. That night, the fish appeared in the master's dream, appreciative of his master's kindness. He asked his master to please cut the tree from his back and make a fish-shaped instrument and tell this story as a lesson.

Hwoarang took a deep, shaking breath in as he moved to the next symbol in his ceremony for clarity. The cloud-shaped gong.

The Blood Talon drew the sticks toward the bronze symbol for saving all beings of the sky. He lingered only a moment before finding the Brahma Bell.

Hwoarang closed his eyes and recalled the inner prayer for peace and protection. He struck the bell 28 times. The symbolism of it reflected that as the bell is struck, all beings in hell are released from their suffering. He had no whale shaped instrument normally used for striking the bell, but the story of PO, a dragon of the sea who cried often at a fear of whales was still with him as he slowly stepped back.

The Korean youth slowly came around the temple to find the last thing he needed to find the solace within himself. Solace at his discovery of Jins secret…solace for those he feared lost.

The juk-bi, a single bamboo shoot cut down the center.

Hwoarang hobbled toward the shoot and fell to his knees as he grasped it, groaning with agony. "I know I am not one of the faithful and shit…but I really need some guidance." He said, lifting the center cut shoot of bamboo to his palm, slapping it against the inside as he winced slightly. This was the signal for the beginning of his mediation…and his desire to find some sense of scale…in a world that challenged that very balance.

The slow, easy chant left Korean lips. Eyes closed, body kneeling, the comforting sting of the bamboo against his palm…slowly made him rock….

(chapter Break)

Jin was awakened by the strike of a drum. He drew onto his knees, fingers rushing to his head to stop the pounding. It was scantly before sunrise…and always, as the day emerged, did the few memories of the Devil and its rare flights return to his mind.

Hwoarang had learned his secret…that much, he recalled. The Korean had faced the demon and called out to Jin…pleaded his fear…pleaded for help. _What have I done?_

The next sharp, distinctive sound reached him after long moments. It sounded like brass…or something close to the sharp coppery mineral. The Japanese youth rose, his hand holding out to feel the wall as he found his way to the inside of the Korean temple…leaning against the door as he watched silently.

Hwoarang had finished striking a bronze bell…and fell to his knees, slapping bamboo against his palm, rocking in slow, easy meditation as petal soft lips moved into something native and unknown to Jin.

The Japanese youth had been taught the practice of Shintoism by his mother and grandfather…not really knowing the name of the practices he had followed until his time living with Heihachi. This was a foreign practice to him…his own religion following the line of Confucianistic philosophy mixed with traditional, ancestral Japanese beliefs. Those beliefs centered around the four principles_…_Tradition and the family, Love of nature, Physical cleanliness, "Matsuri".

This practice of Hwoarangs beliefs, obviously Buddhist, was a new side to his Korean lover..something he never suspected to exist, not truly believing the Blood Talon had a spiritual bend to his fiery soul…not when the Blood Talons life was lived in the antithesis of spiritual reckoning…and the pursuit of hedonism.

//_When faced with a devil, it is to gods and prayer, they all return./_/

Jin ignored the voice that echoed through his thoughts. It was much clearer now than ever before. He watched as Hwoarang rocked painfully on his knees, the constant slap of the bamboo seeming to perpetuate a mediation…a trance like state of searching and clarity that seeing the devil within must have brought out within him.

The Japanese youth felt as though he was observing something hidden in the depths of the ruined Korean temple, the sacred space Hwoarang had so blatantly seemed to dismiss until now.

Pressing his back against the outside wall, the Japanese youth slid down to his backside, cradling his knees against his chest. Now more than ever, he felt helpless…as though he had lost something within himself, never to return to him again. And that very thing, the intrinsic part of his soul, bound in blood…was named Seung.

(chapter Break)

The Blood Talon clipped the tag onto his dobok-ki as he stepped into the hospital elevator. He hated these places, the cold sterile smells, the hard painted white walls…the atmosphere was too anesthetized…stark and filled with sickness.

When first Hwoarang entered, the attendant at the front desk thought he had wandered from emergency triage and was in need of medical care. He probably should have accepted the help but pride alone kept him nursing his injuries, quietly.

It took a long time to get here and Hwoarang contemplated going back to the apartment first to change and shower…but could not bring himself to the energy needed. He was not sure if Jin was still asleep in the back of the stone courtyard of the Korean temple…and though he wanted, he could not bring himself to go there…and face what repercussions that would come, if the Japanese youth…if the half demon was awake.

Mediation had brought him some clarity but he needed more time to find an answer to the challenge of balance. When he awoke from the trance like meditation in the serenity of the Temple inner sanctum, his palm was red and stinging…and all his thoughts turned to the den…

Hwoarang had gotten to the site by cab. He asked the driver to wait, as uncomfortable as the Japanese male had been in that district, he promised he would. What met the Blood Talon was nothing but a sea of caution tape in yellow with bold, black Japanese writing he knew must have read, "Do not enter."

That led the Korean to his next logical deduction, if anyone was alive, the downtown Tokyo Hospital would be the place they would have been taken. He had made his way to the reception desk and ran down a list of names…but only Chang was registered and Hwoarang had to tell the reception desk he as Changs brother, but that was not far from the truth. Most Japanese could not tell one Korean apart from the next, if confronted. During the banter to claim kinship to Chang, Hwoarang hoped, silently, that his friend was not the only who made it out of that death trap alive.

The elevator doors parted and Hwoarang limped toward the room number written on the back of the laminated visitor pass. Critical Care Room 624, East. Holding his breath, the Blood Talon entered and cringed at the scene that unfolded.

Chang was in the bed, pale and stark beneath white sheets and white linens. IV tubes and a heart monitor hummed to the side of his blood brother. The face he loved since his own youthful days was badly bruised, nose broken, lips stitched from the break of knuckles against yielding flesh. One leg was suspended and casted, both arms were strapped down with restraints.

"Tongsaeng." (younger brother), Hwoarang called out, using his hand to brace himself against the side rails of Changs bed. "Tongsaeng?"

There was no answer from Chang. Nothing but the hum of the monitors. Hwoarang walked around the side of the bed to the chair braced into the corner of the wall. He sank down, hoisting his bruised leg up to rest against the foot of his blood brothers bed. "I am not going anywhere, tongsaeng, until you open your eyes….until I know you are alright."

Hwoarang winced slightly as his wounded leg fully settled and extended, letting his head tip against the high backed chair so he could watch Chang like a hawk over its nest. "I am sorry, Chang." He said softly, taking a deep breath in.

"Why are you sorry, Blood Talon?" The strange voice filtered in from just outside the room. A head came around the doorway. Long, tied back hair and a badge. Chinese face. Super cop, Lei Wulong.

"Give me a fucking break." Hwoarang said, never altering his position before Changs bed. "Don't you have someone better to harass, Wulong?"

The detective came into the room, walking to the foot of Changs bed to withdraw the chart left there, scanning the pages. "Your friend here is in serious condition. Critical the doctors say."

"Yeah, I already fucking knew that…otherwise why would they put him in the Critical Care unit?" The Blood Talon pursed his lips.

"Don't get cute with me, Hwoarang. Doesn't work to your benefit." The operative smiled, setting the chart back down. "You know him long?"

"Half of my life." He said, not offering any more information than necessary. Old habit when dealing with the police.

Hwoarangs voice gave away more than just words. There was genuine care there. That could be used to advantage. "Sorry for what you must be feeling." He said simply but meaningfully. "Want to tell me where you were when all this took place?"

The Blood Talon tore his amber eyes from Chang to gaze, harsh at Wulong. "Where the fuck do you think I was? I was fighting in the tournament round, asshole. Same as you. Same as everyone."

Wulong pressed his hands into the pockets of his brown slacks, shaking his head. Koreans. "And after your round against Ling Xiaoyu? Let me see…I think your opponent said…you made comment about going back to your den…and there you have it…"

"Have what, Wulong?" The cop wasn't playing games, he had already done his homework. "You charging me with something?"

"Follow my train of thought here, Hwoarang. Gang leader gets a little pissed off about being cut out of profits…goes on a spree…"

Now, Hwoarangs eyes narrowed and he sat up with complete poise. "…don't you dare even fucking dishonor me that way. I would never…."

"Never what, take out punishment on your gang? Come on, I have been investigating street thugs like your little entourage half of my career. I have known too many street chiefs to take down some members of the clutch that did not follow orders." He paused dramatically. "Wearing yesterdays gi. I see your all bruised up, looks pretty bad. Want to tell me how it happened?" Wulong said suspiciously, verbally forcing the Korean into a corner.

"You should be out there trying to find the real fucking beast that did all this. Chang here, is like a fucking brother to me, like I would ever raise a hand to him…only a monster could do this." Hwoarang nearly spit as he spoke.

"You have had problems with your gang before Hwoarang. Saatchi, one of your soldiers…how quick he was to chirp like a bird when I asked him about your little…tirades." Now it was Wulong who had the advantage, making Hwoarang shift.

"What the fuck did he say? And where is Saatchi?" The Korean nearly spit. So, it was there at last, betrayed by his own.

"He's safe…lucky for him he wasn't there." Wulong smiled. "So, why don't you tell me…what happened…what made you lose your cool, this time?"

Hwoarang removed his numbing leg from Changs bed, coming to a stand, forced to catch himself on the heating vent near the chair or fall over in pain. "I walked into the scene, Wulong. Waltzed in and there it was, the gel haired freak, Kazama Jins father, Kazuya."

"Your boyfriends, father." The operative corrected, watching Hwoarangs face blanche though the youth did his best to recover. Wulong liked to hit raw emotion, it gave the kind of responses he needed.

"Kazama Jin father." Hwoarang said with a hiss. "That's the fucker who did this to me…and to my friends."

"I find that hard to believe. Twenty plus of your best men…one little Mishima. He is a little too old to be dealing in groups, let alone take you out, don't you think?" Wulong was lying. He knew Kazuya was deadly. He knew there were some secrets about the man even Jun could not speak of…but it was something far reaching enough to pull him back from death to this world.

"Well, detective. That's your fucking job to solve the case, not mine." Hwoarang drew up to full height, his body reacting on the short stores of adrenaline he still had left. "I gave you what I know. Now, scamper off and let me deal with the aftermath of this shit."

"The glass window in the sparring room on the first floor was busted open. Makes a good escape, to be that close to the ground. Must be pretty fast on foot, for someone so hurt. Heres a word of advice. Next time, take your bike. We found it at the den…its impounded." Wulong ran his fingertip along the foot of Changs bed with a smile. He would have loved to torment this street thug some more, but he had an important date to keep with Steve Fox…helping his friend search for some answers regarding Nina Williams…and their connections, genetic or otherwise. "I wouldn't stay here too long, Hwoarang. Word is, the Korean Military is looking for an AWOL redhead. Give them enough time and they just might track you."

With that, the Interpol Operative walked to the edge of the room, turning back to see Hwoarang already trying to form a game plan, eyes searching left to right as though the answers were hidden in the Hospital floor white tiles. He winked and half cocked a smile. "Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me, for now. I wont tell them where you are…but you got your work cut out for you, kid. And my best wishes for your friend here."

Hwoarang was trembling as Wulong left, falling back into the chair beside Chang with a groan. No matter what he did, the world was closing in around him…and within him, forcing him into action. There was no rest, for the wicked.


	18. Balancing the Blade

Chapter 17

Balancing the Blade

Jin had not left the apartment for three full days. He was afraid the moment he stepped foot out of the dwelling, he would miss the Blood Talon in passing. There had been little sleep, no appetite. nothing but a constant replay of fuzzy memories and an endless mantra pleading penance. Jin felt himself surrounded by glass, and fissure by crack, his world was coming down around him in shards.

The fourth night away from Hwoarang was drawing into the late hours as Jin walked up the steps to the Korean temple. He entered, bowing in respect, tossing the duffle he had packed up, at the entrance. What he sought was there, kneeling in meditation, comforted by the resounding slap of the juk-bi against a raw, beaten bloody palm. It was apparent Hwoarang was engaged in his own form of soul searching and penance through meditation….to the point of self abuse.

"Hwoarang…." Jin said softly, finding his whisper carried by the inner sanctum. He did not feel comfortable using the Koreans given name, not now when everything was so…broken. Unlike times before this, when the relationship road was rocky, this one felt like the end. How could it not be, now that the Blood Talon had discovered his secret. _What choice did I have? Leave him there to be taken by the police…or for Kazuya to come and finish the job…I had to get him out of there…I had the power…to get him to safety…_

The Blood Talon paused the juk-bi thrashing against his bloody palm…his rocking coming to a slow halt as amber eyes opened, focused straight ahead of him to the brass of the dharma drum. The inner sanctum was lit with long abandoned torches, adding an ephemeral glow to the long, deep chamber.

"It has been three days since you have returned…so I brought you some food and bottled water, even packed what was left of your whiskey. There is also a change of clothes…and a pillow. I wasn't sure if you had a pillow." Jin said softly, pressing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, watching the tattered hem, apparently all the western rage, brush against the floor.

"Its all here in your duffle." He cleared his throat. "I really miss you…and I know you cant deal with me right now…I know you cant handle everything you have seen…but the tournament is starting again in two days…and well, I miss you. But I already said that."

There was no response. But Jin had expected that. He waited a long moment, eyes watching the Koreans back, perfectly poised, still wearing the dobok from days ago. The Japanese youth could feel his heart breaking, could taste the ice between them like a wall he could not melt.

"I will leave you be…I am sorry for disturbing you." He spoke through anguished lips, turning as his eyes closed. This…was the end.

Hwoarang felt his jaw tighten, his body shake. The medication the hospital had given him, after a doctor visiting Chang had seen the condition of the Blood Talon deteriorate over the full three days at every visiting hour, was helping to heal his body…but not his fractured spirit. He rose with a start, barely giving Jin the chance to whirl around to face him…

The Blood Talon launched into a set of heavy left machine gun kicks, aimed for Jins shoulders and upper body. Kazama had just enough time to whirl around and block the onslaught with the strength of his unguarded forearms.

With a heavy sneer, his leg once more returned to the ground, the Korean hit a Right PK, motion switching to swing out a left punch followed by a mid right kick….this time it connected to Jin, who had not yet seen that move from Hwoarang, sending the Japanese youth to his knee.

"Don't do this." Jin pleaded as he jumped back with cat like reflexes, just in time to catch the Left Flamingo power blast…a faint kick that fell into an arm switch of stance…and flawless into a right high kick.

Jin parried using position change, pushing Hwoarang back as the Korean prepared for another attack. There was only one way to stop this…and the Japanese youth called on his training.

Jin grounded himself raising his leg for a high striking left crescent kick that slithered into a low roundhouse…dropping the Blood Talon onto his backside. He remained in guarded stance as Hwoarang raised himself up, the momentary rage seeming to be snapped, even if those amber eyes glistened with pure hatred. "How the fuck could you not tell me!" He hissed, teeth clenched, lips pulled back into a snarl.

Jin gathered his breath, still watching for those signs, even a twitch of those long, deadly appendages. "I did not know how…Seung…please believe me…I..I didn't know what to say…that would not end in your leaving me!"

The Blood Talon, breathing heavy, paced like a stalking cat, amber eyes holding Jins face with a sense of disdain. "I had a fucking right to know…I deserved to know..what I was fucking going to bed with!"

Jin cringed. "You have been to bed with me…never with him…I keep him as caged as I can..but sometimes, I am over powered. I promise you, Seung…it has never been…him."

"At least that thing told the truth…not like you. You fucking betrayed me…you lied to me…pretending all this time you knew nothing…when you knew EVERYTHING." The pacing continued as Hwoarang braced one hand on his hip, the other tightening into a fist, squeezing drops of blood around him like an incantation as he moved. "All this time I felt you…under my skin…I knew it was the blood…but its not fucking even your blood..its his. I have that things god damned essence inside of me!"

Jin shook his head, his lips trembling. "No…Seung. It is my body, my blood you have supped from." Every last vestige of sanity was breaking like shards of glass. "I did not ask for this curse! Don't you understand that? Kazuya passed it to me…in my mothers womb. I made no deal with the devil, Seung, I never sold my soul. I did not know what was happening to me…not until Heihachi…not until after the fight with Toshin."

"You fucking liar." Hwoarang hissed. "That tattoo on your arm…that's the mark of it. You knew longer than that…you knew when you gave yourself to me…you knew that day in my old room…with the feather."

Jin could not contest all of that. The tattoo was something he did not understand..but that day, in the Blood Talons former den..he felt the transformation coming. "How could I have told you? Tell me now, how I could have done that? You rejected me..threw me away…would you have listened to me then? Do you listen to me now?"

Hwoarang narrowed his eyes, tightening the fist that bled until he could feel his own nails breaking further into the self abused flesh, blood pulsing in rivulets past the well of his knuckles. "Your not even fucking human!" He said like a last line of defense, so unsure…so…deceived.

"I am human…I am real and made of flesh and blood…" Jin wanted to crumble, his body shaking with exhaustion, wracking with severe emotional pain. "This…thing…lives inside me..but it is not me…its just a part of myself I cant get rid of. Why don't you see that, Seung! Why cant you see…it is Me standing before you. It is me..that is hurting now…and pleading, without saying, for you to save me."

Hwoarang looked away, the bloody fist shaking as he tried to find some sign of balance. He cocked his head down, watching the blood well in droplets along the sacred, cracked stone floor of the inner sanctum.

"Your all I have to keep me going, Seung." Jins words were tinged with raw pain, his lower lip trembling as he continued. "Everything in my life has betrayed me…even my own spirit…but you are my strength to keep moving through the darkness…you are the light, the fire I stand beside to shake the chill from my bones. Damn the devil to hell…I need you…I cant make it without you…I cant..fight it off…I have no will to battle away this demon…if not for you."

"Your asking me to accept..a demon, for fuck sake!" Hwoarang shouted, though Jins words had hit deeper than he wanted to admit. He could taste the pain in the Japanese youths voice, could feel it echoed through his blood…but the anger, that Leo born August fire, was still too hot inside of him.

Jin closed his eyes tightly, lips trembling as he turned. Hwoarang was right. There was no way the Korean could possibly accept the depth of this unnatural situation…and Jin could not ask for him to. It was wholly unrealistic…unfair…and painful.

The Japanese youth tightened his hand into a fist as he walked toward the entrance, the fatal lightning sliding down his arm as a sudden corpse punch leveled against the stone, making the brick tremble…leaving a blood mark from the curve of Jins knuckles as the youth moved out and down the stairs. There was nothing for him now…nothing but the vendetta…the end of the Mishima line…and the solace of sleep, deep in the ground, once his work was finished.

Hwoarang walked to the entrance, watching Jin disappear into the night. He was still writhing angry, nearly to the point of spitting, until he scented something familiar all around him. Jins blood.

The Korean turned his eyes to the source. A splatter of knuckles in four waves against the stone. He looked to the pattern for a long moment before raising his own bloody hand, pressuring the flat bridge of his fist against the mark Jin had left. Blood on Blood. Their hands were nearly the same size, left the nearly same imprint.

The Blood Talon whirled around, the four instruments of the Temple whipping past his view. "Fuck!" He shouted out, kicking his duffle half way across the inner sanctum. Either way he chose…he could not win.

(Chapter Break)

Jin returned to the apartment with the intention of gathering up everything that was his…and finding another place to stay till the tournament and his business was concluded. So long as he remained in these four walls, he knew Hwoarang would not return to his own dwelling…and that fact alone was more than the Japanese youth could take.

Now, it was all Jin could do to look around him and drink in the ambiance of this place. He had nothing that belonged to him, nothing but what the Korean had provided him with. At least when he first said he would stay here, he had Hwoarang…now even that was gone from him. Every pathway was tossing obstacles to prevent Jin from ever finding some sense of happiness, of calm. And now, with his heart ripped away from his lover…there was just no point in trying to find any sense of solace and comfort.

It was really over, just like that.

All the arguing and heated exchanges, the slow burning banter and dark cries in the night…two years of agony spent apart, only to find each other again. Over. Fates cruel joke fueled by destiny's even crueler hand.

Leaving the spare key on the range, Jin opened the door, giving one last look around…every corner seeming to have a story to tell him. Shaking his head softly, he drew up his hood and locked the door behind himself. The night was warm, yet Jin slid his hands into his pockets as he stepped out into the darkness, not sure where his heavy heart would lead him.

(Chapter Break)

The Blood Talon stepped lightly through the clearing of brush and grass, leaning against the heavy bark of a tree as he lit up a cigarette. The flame highlighted his features almost as completely as the dawn that rose around him, casting a glowing orange halo around his drying coppery tendrils.

It took him a long while to leave the confines of the Korean Temple, to gain the courage to stop studying the mark of blood mingled…the punch of Jins hand that had crackled the Japanese youths knuckles and his own, abused palm from the juk-bi.

It was clear past dawn when the Blood Talon had come home to his apartment to find Jin gone. He took a short time to shower and redress before looking deep inside himself to where the Japanese youth, the half demon, could have gone. His blood and instinct brought him here. And he was right.

"Why did you leave the apartment?" Hwoarang asked. Jin knew he was here, even if the youth did not turn to glance over his shoulder, back braced against a tree as he sat with his knees to his chest, looking so vulnerable and lost, even from the Koreans view behind Jin.

"I knew you would not return to your home if I remained there. It would be dishonor to prevent you from what is rightfully yours." Jin said, chin resting against the forearms that crossed and held his knees close to him. He had wandered the night without rest to finally come here, the scene of his picnic with Ling only a week ago…and of the first true fight that would cause a break up between the Blood Talon and himself, two years ago. In its own, desolate right, this place was sacred ground.

Hwoarang shuffled his boot against the dark earth beneath him. His head shook with intimate understanding. All of this, was just too much to bear. But the Blood Talon never ran from a fight. or a another person, in his life. He was not about to start now. "I see."

Jin was silent for a long moment. "You do not have to trouble yourself with worry for me, Hwoarang, though it was kind of you to seek me out."

"Then you disrespect me." Hwoarang said with a snicker and that forced Jin to turn his head to look over his shoulder.

"How have I done that?" The Japanese youth said in earnest. He was not sure he could take one more accusation, one more truthful statement to tear him asunder.

"Because then, you are keeping from me, what is mine." Hwoarang flicked the burnt down, cigarette even as Jin rose and for the first time since the conversation, two eyes locked.

Jin had a look so forlorn in his eyes as he looked into the Blood Talons amber orbs, the rays of deep dawn reflecting gold into the glint of that gaze. "Do you know…what it is you are saying…by saying those words?"

Hwoarang pressed his hands into denim pockets. "I know your…not exactly human…but I know your not completely demon either. I know I want you around…and I want to be around you." The Korean cocked his head to the side, ever so slightly, letting still whet tendrils cling to the side of his face. "I know it might be more than I can take…but what I don't know is…how much I can take of it, until I try."

"Why would you do all of this? I have done nothing but bring you misery…bring you lies and danger…your body was nearly broken, your spirit locked in fear. Why would you return to this…when all I have ever done to you, is disappoint you?" Jin had expected reproach, anger, fear and stinging betrayal. What met him. was only the questioning in Hwoarangs eyes of just how much he really could take…how much he really could believe in what they had…

"Because." Hwoarang stopped himself, biting the edge of his lip, the words right on the edge of his tongue, the declaration that was so nearly ready to break free and change their lives forever. "Because I…well, you are the challenge to my balance."

Jin was unable to control the easy smile that fell over his dour lips. _Trust in Hwoarang to always be truthful, no matter what ills the world may inflict. _"So, what do we do now?"

"Shit, your asking me?" The Blood Talon gave a side long glance, trying to conceal that half smile that was slowly claiming his lips. "I have a great idea. Lets go home. We can lock ourselves in our bedroom and pretend the world is normal for a few hours. How does that sound to you, Jin?"

The Japanese youth smiled softly. "Like bliss, Seung. It sounds like bliss."

Jin noticed Hwoarang had been keeping his distance through most of their conversation. The two had done as the Blood Talon promised, plopping down on the large Queen sized bed in Hwoarangs remote apartment in the Yurei district with a few beers and some herbal relief the Korean had rolled up as they spoke. It had taken time to break open some of the guarded thoughts Hwoarang kept inside…but every revelation was worth it.

(Chapter Break)

"…she was taken. Don't really know what the Military Police would want with a textile worker trying to support her kid, but hey, that's the nature of life, right? I never heard another thing after they took her. I was only 10." The Korean exhaled softly. "I did what I had to do to survive. It was a bad time in Korea especially in the Cholla region, a northern province of Ch'ungch'ong, south Korea. Mostly an agricultural area, not a lot of chance to make it on your own at any age. Hell, martial law broke down, the government was shit…people were killing each other in the streets for food. It was survival instinct alone…and the gang I joined that kept me alive." Hwoarang said softly as he lit up another of the rolled cigarettes, still laying on his back, sideways on the bed.

"But what about your father, I mean, didn't you try to find him?" Jin asked, so painfully innocent, it was almost relieving.

"Nah, don't know much about him. Apparently he was some soldier stationed at the American Embassy in Korea. Probably duped my mother into believing if she fucked him, he would bring her to the good ol' U.S of A. She never really spoke of him that I can remember…I don't know if that's a damn shame, or a blessing." The Blood Talon snickered, passing the fresh rolled cigarette to Jin.

"Your spirit is so strong, Seung. It must have come as a horrible blow to your person and yet, it helped to make you who you are…." Jin said softly. He had little memory of more than his mother and the occasional words she shed about Kazuya. Her descriptions were idyllic….beautiful…something to inspire awe and honor, even if that was far from what the Japanese youth felt toward his own sire. "When did you first know, you were…well, Bisexual?"

"When did you first know you were half demon?" Hwoarang rebuttal defensively and quirked a dark brow. "15, Seoul Korea. Your answer?"

"During the last tournament after you and I…split up." Jin responded quietly. "In South America, when Heihachi shot me…I did not survive it, the demon did…it brought me out of there…and when I awoke…I was on foreign soil."

"And that's where the tattoo came from. The feathers, the sickness, it all makes sense to me now. How could I not have put it all together." Hwoarang shook his head amidst a cavalcade of coppery tendrils.

Jin sat with one leg pressed to his chest, the other crossed beneath his body. He took yet another inhale of the herbal cigarette before passing it back to Hwoarang. It was a pleasant distraction from meeting those amber eyes. "I guess no one could put it together. These kinds of things aren't supposed to exist in the real world. Nightmares and fairytales…but not flesh and blood."

Hwoarang snickered, taking a drag off the rolled herbal before passing it back. "There are times I really…feel you, Jin. I guess that's the blood I keep tasting in my mouth…the blood I cant seem to get enough of. I get a scent of you…and my lips start to ache like I'm some fucking vampire" Hwoarang snickered yet again. "I hope you'll need a buddy in hell cause I think I just damned myself right there next to you."

Jin pulled his bent up leg closer to his body. "I don't know what it can do to you, I mean its still my body and my blood…but I don't think you should ever have another drop of it…just in case. I mean, if we ever…you know, should be intimate again." That seemed like common sense. He did not understand why that practice had even started. It was only small droplets attained through occasional hard biting….but it was still, as Hwoarang had said, almost vampiric. Then again, the lust between them was anything but holy to begin with, if any of it that would still be present between them. "Besides, its not really normal." _What is less normal is how I enjoyed the taste of it so…on my knees, supping from his hip like a thirsty dog..I know it was..the Devil…but…_

Hwoarang narrowed his eyes almost defensively, breaking through Jins inner monologue. He did not want to say it, but the taste of Jins blood was…addictive. and the thought of stopping that…made the Blood Talon. uneasy. The Korean enjoyed that coppery tang, smooth and sugary, powerful and rife with kink. It was like having something of Jin inside of him….but now, that came with the double edged cut of knowing his lover…was half demonic. but he did not crave it any less. "You think I don't want you anymore, Jin? Think I cant handle you, is that it?"

Jin looked up as the Blood Talon rose from his laying position on the bed, the glint of fire in those crisp amber eyes. "I wouldn't want someone like me, become entangled in this curse…knowing that thing that lives inside of me could…hurt someone…someone close to me."

"Don't know. I could wrap my fingers around those feathers and rock your body right into me." Hwoarang said with that usual arrogant smile, never one to be underestimated, to run from anything or anyone.

"I don't think…the demon would ever allow something like that." Jin said quietly. The idea was disturbing, even if the Blood Talon was only full of bravado and making an innuendo. And Jin was not entirely sure…the Devil Within, would oppose any such idea. It was the Demon, afterall, that had sunk into Hwoarangs hip to drink…filling Jins own senses with the nauseating urge to have his lover…disgracefully.

The Japanese youth found his train of thought derailed. Hwoarang was on his knees, reclaiming the herbal cigarette from Jins fingers and setting the slim rolled bone into the ashtray. He leaned on his knuckles, his face just painful inches from Jins. "Good thing your not him then, eh?"

Jin felt the warm breath against his lips and felt four days of anguish and agony meld into a flush of desire. Petal soft lips parted slowly, subconsciously. He missed the taste of that Korean mouth.

The Blood Talons finger crooked beneath Jins angular chin, half expecting the flesh to feel. different. It was reassuring that the same, smooth and soft porcelain met his touch. Amber held sable and the Blood Talon leaned in against the Japanese youth.

Jin parted his lips further with a soft breath as Hwoarangs warm, whet tongue rolled slowly into his mouth. He met that slow easy heat with half bated breath, his hand sliding up to rest alongside of the Koreans neck. The spell was weaved so easily as flickering tongues met, half exposed to air and the mixture of unhinged breaths.

"Burns, doesn't it baby…" Hwoarang moaned teasingly, tilting his head to the opposite side, letting his tongue lap first against Jins own before exploring the heavy curve of perfect petal soft lips, teasing the line of the teeth. With a heated motion, the Koreans exploring muscle claimed Jins, the pressure of two hungry mouths coming together as the hold tightened.

Jins fingers slid into dyed copper, entwining the soft shag around his fingers. Of all the things he loved most about his fiery Korean, it might well have been that beautiful, soft mane. The Japanese youth moaned into the wealth of the Blood Talons lips, feeling his body respond the moment Hwoarang slowly pressed him back into the bed, the force of that perfect skin lingering above his seductively. The heat was tangible and instant and it made Jin shake with its sudden, heavy intensity.

Hwoarang withdrew as Jins lips remained open and eager, his breath heavy. "Your starving…I can fucking taste it." A calloused finger slid against his lovers flushed cheek. 4 full days without each other had built a pyre that threatened to burn his lover alive.

"I never thought…I would taste your mouth again…" Jin said, his eyes half slit as Hwoarangs finger slid against his skin. "I was wrong…to doubt."

"I don't give up anything I sink my claws into." Hwoarang purred, taking Jins mouth in a hard, heavy motion, drinking the fast breath that lifted from those eager, kiss swollen lips.

Jins fingers slid from the side of the Koreans neck to the zippered vest the Blood Talon wore, slipping the metal down to free the delicious flesh there. His palm traced his lovers chest, rubbing against the firm upper body that met him….the pads of his fingers tracing a hardening nipple. The exploring grip tensed, squeezing the tan, taut bud, feeling Hwoarangs lips pull back to release a slow, easy moan.

The Japanese youth loved that exchange, that throaty moan that bordered on a profane hiss. Hwoarangs body was like a playground of sound and Jin was sorry he had not taken the time to explore more often.

"Mmm I like that baby…" Hwoarang arched slightly at the roll of the captured bud between Jins forefinger and thumb washed over him again. "That hurts nice…"

"Good." Jin said with a soft moan. Something about the hot flush of his lovers face, the slow easy roll of desire that lifted past the Koreans lips, made him burn. He lifted himself up to a seated position, pressing Hwoarang back to an upright position on his knees. Jins hungry mouth took hold of the neglected left nipple, tongue laving the bud before enclosing his teeth around the tender flesh.

"Fuck, that's hot." Hwoarang hissed, fingers sliding into Jins ebony mane. The gnash of teeth sent a dark shot up his spine.

The Japanese youth felt deliciously greedy. He wanted more and more of the Blood Talons moans, to collect and savor…to see how far he could take his lover…how much the fiery Korean could take.

Jin withdrew his mouth from the swollen bud, replacing the gnash of his teeth with his free hand, continuing the slow easy torment. "You like that pain, Seung…like the way it makes you feel inside…?"

Hwoarang groaned, licking his dry lips slowly as Jin savored the roll of his aching nipples, the hot sensation of pain and pleasure mingling with his lovers darkly sensual voice. "Hmmm I got a place for that hot mouth of yours…"

Jin tugged at both nipples at once, feeling the Blood Talons spine arch, those delicious words swallowed into the wealth of such an eager mouth. He liked having that kind of effect on the fiery Korean. "You didn't answer me, Seung…"

"Yeah…" Hwoarang hissed, drunk on the sensation, teeth snapping in the air as his lips curled back in a delicious sneer.

One hand withdrew from the Blood Talons firm chest, tracing nails against bare flesh to the line of the obvious thick protrusion bound in those form fitting jeans. "Never realized how hard it makes you…but looking back…I should have taken more advantage of your love for pain…the way you have taken the advantage with my own." Jins nails scratched a sharp draw up against the bound length, making the Koreans back straighter in the process. As though mere consequence, the Japanese youth unbuttoned the restrictive jeans with a flick of his fingers…grasping the catch on the zipper and sliding the hiss of metal teasingly, giving his lovers length ample breathing room. Once more, the kiss of nails brushed down the heavy shaft beneath his fingers and Hwoarangs hands clutched Jins shoulders.

"I'm not used to seeing you speechless, Seung. It becomes you…" Jin purred, scratching against the heavy vein that ran the underside of his lovers cock. He could have drunk himself to intoxication on the heavy whimper that mingled like an underscore of music with a more powerful moan.

"You have been in need of this kind of attention…haven't you, Seung?" Jins lips slid against the heat of Hwoarangs torso, nipping the tawny flesh. "What kind of lover would I be…if I didn't give you what you needed." The tone was mocking and yet…heavy with tormenting desire.

"Fuck, Jin. Don't tease me…" Hwoarang barely managed as Jins teeth and tongue interchanged against his flesh. It was intoxicating and dark and the Korean was eager for it to continue….the role of prey was not often known to him…but the Blood Talon found…he was liking it.

"You need a good teasing, Seung. You need to be controlled…" Jin licked up to his lovers chest, replacing the fingers that rolled and pinched the taut nipple with his teeth. That hand now free, the Japanese youth slowly scratched his way down the Blood Talons muscular spine…to the deep cleft of two firm globes.

Hwoarang grasped Jins shoulders harder, rocking back into the teasing sensation…gasping at the nearly painful slide of his crown against the fabric of Jins shirt. He could feel his lovers fingers toying with the guarding ring of muscle that stood sentry to the core of his body. That slow circle of Jins nails was making him lose any sense of reason. "God damn it, Jin…"

The Japanese youth smiled darkly, slowly drawing up to his knees, brushing his chest along his lovers twitching length as he moved till he was eye to eye with his flushed Korean beauty. How he loved the heavy liquid lidding of those perfect amber orbs. This feeling of control…was intoxicating.

Jin tilted his head to brush his slick tongue against the hot pulse at the side of Hwoarangs neck, smiling against the skin…drunk on his own dark power over his lover. "I can smell your heat, Seung." Again the sway of lips over flesh, teasing the supple skin with a drag of his teeth. "Do you want my fingers inside of you?"

"You already know the fucking answer…" The Blood Talon hissed. So this was what it felt like to beg.

"I want you to tell me…" Jins mouth slithered up against Hwoarangs sensitive ear, his words passing like a heavy moaning breath into the eager canal.

"Yeah, alright…stick something inside of me…anything." The Blood Talon could not swallow the need to beg, he had to pretend to remain in control, even if he wanted this so bad he could taste it. His ego was a bitch.

Jin leaned upward slowly, brushing his lips against Hwoarangs…a distraction meant to cloak his movement as he hand wrapped around his lovers tight sac, pressuring the sensitive flesh. His eyes held Hwoarangs and his lips parted for an easy smile. "Don't get cute with me Seung…if you want something…your going to have to ask me for it…and I don't think you want me to stop, do you?"

Those fingers were tormenting the hell out of him. "No…I don't want you to stop." Hwoarang moaned, licking his lips slowly. "Give me your fingers baby…I want them inside of me…"

Jin pressed in and licked against Hwoarangs parted lips. "See, that wasn't so hard now was it?" He did not waste a precious moment of submission, holding his body to Hwoarangs. Jin sank his fingers deep and fast into the protesting walls, feeling his lover cave in against him. "Hurt nice, Seung?"

The Blood Talon hissed as his lips fell against Jins neck, forehead rubbing against a strong shoulder when those fingers impaled him…and scissored inside his body. "Yeah…baby…" the heavy moan was laced with pleading. His spine tried to bend and arch but Jins hand kept him stable as those perfect digits pressed in and twisted against his core.

Jins free hand scratched down against Hwoarangs sac, thumb nail tormenting those perfect, firm inner thighs. "You make me hard when hiss like that…I know how good that pain is…and I want to give you more of it."

Hwoarang groaned, spreading his thighs as Jins fingers tormented him both inside and out. They hurt deliciously…and teased endlessly…he wanted more…

Jin smiled darkly, releasing the hand that scratched teasingly at his lover, drawing up along Hwoarangs body to lightly grasp that swan like throat. His twining fingers left the Koreans hot channel…letting the tainted digits linger beneath the Blood Talons nose. "Do you smell that heat, Seung? Hot…dark…eager."

The Japanese youths tongue snaked out to taste those two fingers, feeling his lovers hot breath against his face. Amber locked to sable…the Blood Talon lapped his tongue against Jins lips as his lover tasted his musk from his fingers. Hwoarang was shaking, his body thrumming.

"Hurt me Jin…" the pressure in his chest made his body wrack. "Please…"

The Japanese youth slowly withdrew his tongue from the musk heavy digits, fingers releasing Hwoarangs throat. "Get on your knees…" Jin could feel his breath rasp with the need to fill that perfect body. So this was what it was like for Hwoarang, every time he pleaded and begged for his need, beneath the Korean. It was powerful and dark…achingly fulfilling.

The Blood Talon was panting heavily as he turned and fell onto all fours, head hanging slightly when he felt Jin rip the jeans from his body, causing him to nearly crash onto the bed. He reared up slightly when he felt the tug at his unzipped vest, the material melting from his body as he returned to all fours.

Jins fingers scratched down his lovers arched spine until he met the firm round globes begging to be plundered…where he left a heavy, full palm slap, making the Blood Talon shiver. "I am so fucking. wound up, Jin. God damn it…don't tease me…"

"Your mine to tease." Jin purred, leveling another hard, heavy handed slap as he heard the breath leave his lovers lips. The reddening flesh was a masterpiece to behold. He liked leaving his lover wondering…what would come next….

Another heavy slap to his backside and Hwoarang arched, his entrance yawning in time with the hard sting. "Baby, please…" the Korean groaned, grasping onto the coverlet as his head sank down to rest onto his forearm. "I am so fucking hot for you…"

Jin could not be cruel. He had done the impossible, had brought the fiery Korean to pleading desire. Having already shed his clothes, Jin took his shaft in hand…separating those firm red globes to press his thick crown to the tight ring of muscle that awaited him. He rubbed the tip against his lovers entrance, feeling Hwoarang tighten. "I am going to hurt you Seung…like you have never been hurt before…and I want Tokyo to hear…who has brought the Blood Talon to his knees…"

Hwoarang groaned, his fingers tightening around the coverlet as Jin pressed himself into his body…without a drop of lubrication…without a moment of preparation…the pain was deep…and his lips parted for a silent, anguished scream.

"Tight…unbelievably tight, Seung." Jin groaned as he felt his lovers core slowly yield beneath the constant pressure. He gave his beauty that moment to adjust. Listening to Hwoarangs heavy panting breaths, feeling the moment his lover opened completely.

"Scream for me…" The Japanese youth thrust deep into Hwoarang, feeling his lover arch and let free a throaty shriek of pure, untainted agony. "You sound…so beautiful…"

Hwoarang nearly collapsed at the heavy, hard motion, his mind blank of everything but the hot, painful sensation that drew the two of them together. He needed it…he needed more of it…

"Jin…you hurt…so fucking good…." His hoarse whisper hit the room as Jins fingers grasped his hips, drawing the Blood Talon toward the edge of the bed and into his thrust, forcing that delicious corridor to tighten and milk around him.

"…and that's because…you need it so badly…oh god…Seung…I feel how much you need this." Jin shook his head to the side as something within himself started to shift. The very pulse beneath his skin was on fire, overflowing with the flames of Hwoarangs heavy blood still somewhere inside of him. "Scream for me, Seung…I want to hear how much…I hurt you."

Hwoarangs eyes were tightly closed, mouth aching…body shivering as Jin thrust into him with the desire to sate the heavy need to be had…to be taken and controlled…to be abused. It was a side he seldom let be seen…a desire dark enough to keep hidden…and now, Jin knew that secret…and unlocked it with every heavy drive into his body. "Fuck!" The Blood Talon shrieked, one hand coning around his length as the onslaught tore him apart….

..Jin feed his length at pistoning strength into such a velvet and welcoming channel, the tight motions making him lose his grip on reality. Nothing had ever felt like this…nothing had ever felt this good, this dark…this complete.

"I need…your skin…Jin..please…" Hwoarang groaned, eyes shut tightly as the sweet pain and perfect pleasure mingled in that place inside of him like sugary poison.

The Japanese youth knew what his lover needed…and grasped Hwoarang around the waist, drawing the Korean backwards against him till the Blood Talons back was forced to his heaving chest.

"Fucking god!" Hwoarang cried out as Jins length pressured harder into his body, heavy crown sliding against the nub of pleasure buried inside of him.  
"Fucking god..Jin…that's the spot..fuck…"

Jins thrusts were shorter and deeper as the sensation wound around him. He had been in his lovers position.. and knew just how good it felt to receive…and now…how intoxicating it was…to give. His eyes narrowed as he rocked to a heavy rhythm, watching the primal pump of his lovers fingers against his own aching length. "I can smell you…your blood…I feel you…bathing my cock…red…"

The sensation was overwhelming. Hwoarang released his throbbing length and grasped the arm that wound around his waist, drawing it up against his shoulders…thrusting himself back into Jin to try to drive his lover deeper into his body. Teeth broke skin…just above the center of the forearm…and blood filled the Koreans senses.

Jin lost all sense of time and reason, his mouth lingering near the Blood Talons ear, forsaking every previous warning on the act already in progress. "Drink…Seung…take every last drop…" was all he said against his lovers sweating flesh…

Jin could not fight the shift inside himself…or the hunger he tried to force away, any longer. The glint of elongating enamel broke Korean skin…giving himself to the hot primal scent…no longer fighting back the urges he had battled with since the incident in the kitchen..the desire for more held in secret, until this moment.

How sweet the sensation! The heavy pump of the Blood Talons life force fed his mouth. The thick taste slid down his thirsty throat and Jin thrust harder, taking up a deeper seat inside of his lovers body as his senses were overcome with the coppery taste of blood and the primal smell of sex.

Hwoarang broke the seal of his mouth from Jins flesh as the pressure built at his prostate, his senses drowning with copper; love and lust battling beneath his very skin. He was inundated, intoxicated…white hot lightning forking behind his eyes as his Japanese beauty brutalized his hidden treasure. "Don't…stop…please…"

Jins red mouth lifted as the first shake of release started to build against Hwoarangs squeezing core. "…beg for it…" He hissed, his hold on the Korean suddenly releasing, sending the Blood Talon nearly crashing to the bed before catching himself in a moment of desperation.

Jin drew in tighter to the Blood Talons body, releasing delicious aggression in every stroke. He fed his lust deeper into his lovers core until he could nearly feel the white hot sensations that flashed like wildfire beneath Hwoarangs skin.

"Jin…please…fuck…I cant..hold it…baby…please." The Koreans wanton pleas were broken…his words wrapped in that taste of his lovers blood…the connection thicker and hotter…more binding and acute than ever before.

With the taste of crimson deep in his throat, Jin could feel Hwoarangs body milking against his rigid flesh in wicked desperation…never had he felt so completely saturated.

Jin brought his lover to the edge with pain and intermingled pleasure…with the agony the fiery Korean needed "Give yourself to me, Seung…" It was no request, it was a command…as the Japanese youths eyes fixed on the black outline of a single feather between the Koreans shoulder blades…a living insignia…his mark…HIS mark.

"Fuck…Jin…Jin…please!" The Blood Talon lingered in a place of hot torment..of submission so complete, he knew he would never entirely return from its grip…. …the pain…the pleasure, the blood in his throat…Jin…was his everything.

"Give yourself to me!" Jin hissed like a man possessed, the baritone of his normally placid voice ringing back from the walls around them. He drove himself harder against the already tormented pleasure nub within the Korean, coning one hand around his lovers weeping length…pumping with a dry, agonizingly beautiful stroke.

Hwoarang let free a heated cry as his spine arched with convulsions, milking Jin further into him. He vaguely felt the slide of thick nails that braced at his hip, pulling him back, there was only the intoxication of his lover moving with rapid fury into his body, stroking him to a pitch. "Fuck…all of me….I give you all of me!"

"Cum." Jin said rewardingly, no longer fighting against the darkness within him…there was only the peace now that came with his lovers total submission…the taste of blood and lust that wanted to force the Japanese youth to rip the Korean to shreds…if only to feast….

The Blood Talons head dropped forward as the heated command overtook him, the change in pace rivoting through his body as Jin reduced the pressure of his thrust…shifting the assault from his pleasure center. Hwoarangs body convulsed, whipping his head upward till sweat soaked tendrils clung to his heaving spine. The scream that issued from his own lips was dark enough to shift his Ki…. "Jin!" Hwoarang cried out as the wave rode over him…euphoria crashing with delicious agony….light yielding to dark…

Heavy ribbons of seed released as the Blood Talon nearly broke into sobbing relief…the intensity holding long enough to drive him to insanity….

"Seung…you…are..mine." Jin cried out, letting the control he held a tight reign on, spiral away from him. He felt every heated convulsion milking his aching length, squeezing with such ardor he swore his body would break. His lovers release drew him over the cliff…as he buried his seed deep into Hwoarangs shivering body.

(Chapter Break)

Neither Jin nor Hwoarang moved for long moments as ragged breaths returned to normal pace. The Japanese youth withdrew gently from his lovers body, the ring of blood against his now wilting length had been nearly as intoxicating as watching Hwoarang curl into a slow roll on the bed.

Jin was not sure what had come over him…what had shifted him from the desire to give Hwoarang the release he needed…to delicious brutality…and the display of dominance. The sensation was predatory…primal…and frightfully…demonic.

Biting his lips softly, the Japanese youth slowly drew alongside Hwoarang, draping an arm around his lovers waist, pressing the glistening Korean close to him. "You have never been more beautiful…never more perfect than in this moment…" Jin moaned, tracing his warm, whet tongue against the line of Hwoarangs heaving shoulder…against the heavy tear where his teeth broke skin. The faint smell of live blood gave way to the dried remnants of the crimson taboo he so coveted and yet fought against since the first taste…that fateful night.

"I have never….been fucked like that baby…God damn…that was spiritual." Hwoarang moaned as the tip of Jins tongue invaded the shorn flesh of his shoulder. "I thought…we promised not to…tear each other open like fucking cannibals…"

"That wasn't exactly what I said." Jin let his lips linger against the bite tendered area, his breath hot against moistened skin. "But it was close, Seung." the hand that braced the Korean now slid down his lovers lithe, strong hip. "I understand your attraction to my blood…and though I know I should feel differently…I know my attraction to yours…as well."

"Your gonna make me hard and hungry for more." Hwoarang moaned. Nothing but complete debauchery could ever satisfy him now.

"I have a confession to make…." Jin forced himself to withhold the desire to taste more of the nectar he found himself full on, and yet, still craving.

Hwoarang gazed over the edge of his shoulder, licking his lips slowly, his breathing elevated as he caught Jins eyes. "Whats that, baby?" After a fucking like that, the Korean was more complacent than he ever thought he could be.

"I really enjoyed…hurting you…" Jin continued to lap at the hot line of the Blood Talons shoulder, sable lashes half lidded and holding the amber that met him. "I felt as though I could give you something I knew you needed…and in return…something I needed as well."

Hwoarang gave a slow, wry smile. "What was it you needed Jin?"

"To control you…to tame you…and make you feel, only me." The Japanese youth let his own revelations flow.

"Well, you have had a good fucking teacher, literally." The Blood Talons voice was a slow, seductive whisper as he felt Jins breath graze over the flesh he devotedly licked against. There was a dangerous sensuality to the simple motion….and an even more dangerous realization that for all his bravado and dominance…Hwoarang had craved this….craved it like he craved Jins blood. Now, the corruption was absolute


	19. The First Cut of the Blade

Chapter 18

The First Cut of the Blade

"Jin, why the fuck is it so dark in here?" Hwoarang stumbled through the door, flooding the entrance with light from the hall. He could barely see a thing once he closed the portal behind him and tossed his keys to the counter.

"You fucking deaf and blind?" The Blood Talon belted out again when Jin did not answer, coming around from the dining area to find the Japanese youth kneeling before a single lit candle, meditating.

Jin turned his eyes up slowly, giving the outline of his orbs a crisp, fiery glint as he regained focus, feeling his Chi slowly drawing back inside his core. "I ran through some forms and was just finishing. I did not think you would mind."

Hwoarang gave a slow smile. "Its kinda hot, you on your knees waiting for me."

Jin could not help but flush as he looked up along the Blood Talons perfect body, taking in the play of candlelight flickering like a tentative lovers fingers against the fabric that guarded the Korean form before him. The glance had been appraising…as though the dominance he showed in the evening now battled with the submission he enjoyed prior to such. "How is Chang?"

"Improving. Still out of it, but hell, he's a survivor." Hwoarang tried to shoo off his concerns for his "brother" and exhaled sharply before that familiar glint returned to his eyes. "Got my bike back though. I bailed it out of impound. Guess Wulong isn't so bad after all." The Korean shrugged, sinking down to his knees on the opposite side of the candle. "So, what's on your mind."

"Just trying to make peace…with everything that has happened, asking for the strength to continue on my path…not unlike what you were doing in the Temple." Jin said softly, the candle flickering gently as he spoke.

"Didn't know I was being watched. I don't really share what spirituality I have left inside of me…" The Korean sighed softly. "But well, there aren't any real secrets between us anymore, are there Jin?"

Jin shook his head softly. "No." He felt in that moment, chided like a child who had spoiled his dinner with sweets. "We are now, on even keel, Seung…"

Hwoarang knew there was more to be said….and yet, Jins lips were hesitant to give birth to the words. "What is behind this, Jin?" He asked as he slid down to his side, using his straightened arm to hold himself up as one leg folded in beside his chest.

The Japanese youth took in a deep breath, for a moment, the very life of the single flickering candle seemed to draw toward those perfect, petal soft lips. "My path is suddenly so unclear to me Seung. I do not know how better to explain it."

Hwoarang quirked a brow, pursing his lips and nodding slightly before the light of the fire. "You gotta give me something more to go on here." Amber eyes slid along the contours of Jins face. He recognized that pained, forlorn expression. It had been 2 years ago…the knock to his hotel room door….the knock that could be heard all around his world.

Jin breathed out quickly, as much from frustration as anxiety. The candle light flickered in response to the sudden rush of oxygen, feeding off the abundant source. "I can see only so much in the distance on this clouded path. I sense to fork right, is the action that keeps me happy..but unbalanced. It shows me the way that makes me forever run away from who I am…from my…well, Demons….and remain fearful of those who would pursue me…and fearful of myself and what I could become." The anguish was draining on his spirit. Jin could feel the darkness around him like a thick shroud…like black wings made heavier by soaking rain. "I would be beside you. But I am running... Always running…from everyone…including myself." Jin could almost hear the ground shaking at the pounding of boots upon earth…the fear of looking over ones shoulder, never truly free….always evading capture.

The Blood Talon lifted his pack of cigarettes from an overly tight denim pocket, tapping a cylinder out and leaning against the candle to spark the tobacco to life. He exhaled sharply as amber orbs focused half slit on the candle, envisioning this proverbial fork in the road. "And left?"

"Left…" Jin repeated and drew in vital breath. "Left is the end of the struggle. The destruction of the bloodline that ends with my own death…the quietness of no longer running….but instead, finally standing still." The Japanese youth turned his eyes up to catch the glint of flame in the amber orbs that studied the fire. "The end of the tournament is coming…and this path is growing shorter step by step. To decide the direction is to tempt the fates….and failure to decide quickly can unleash the darkness inside of me, Seung." Jin held his breath for a long moment. "For the first time in all of my life, I am afraid."

Hwoarang closed his eyes as he inhaled pale smoke, caught off guard at the idea that Jin was ready to finish himself off, along with his family, to ensure the Bloodline was truly dead. The Blood Talon could feel the pulse of blood within him, the heady call that forced his adrenaline to release as though something inside of his blood was crying out to be saved…and it was not his voice requesting it. Hwoarang could see the path Jin described…with painstaking accuracy, a gift of his lovers blood. How many more gifts would there be?

"What are you afraid of?" The Blood Talon whispered, but he already knew the answers.

"That either way I chose, I can not win." Jin said with deliberate speed as the revelations slowly dissipated. His purpose had once been clear and now it was darkened over till all he could see through the mist was his Korean lover….the beacon of light that heralded him to the fork in his path. That trusted light, somehow, seemed dim, tainted. "Either way I chose….it will take me away from you…faster or slower…the end result will be the same. I jeopardize myself…and fear that if I do not attend to Heihachi and Kazuya…they or I…could hurt you."

Amber and Sable connected over the flame. The eerie, solemn flicker that echoed in Jins eyes spoke to Hwoarang…till the Blood Talon could almost see the demon whispering at him through his lovers gaze. "This is about last night, isn't it, Jin?"

"Last night something…changed inside of me, Seung. It is as though the cage that holds my darkness…has loosened." Jin bit the edge of his lip. A day of recollection had left him shamed of his behavior. Afraid of his own dominance and yet, craving more of it. "This epiphany…is foreboding."

Hwoarang winced as he exhaled the blue tinged vapor in his lungs, for the first time finding it gave him no rush…no chemical euphoria as only nicotine could. "Well, that's some sobering shit." He snickered defensively to cover his own rising sense of concern. Whatever was triggering inside of Jin…was gnawing at him…like fangs on flesh…in more ways than one. Something inside of the Japanese youth was aligning itself with more than fate…it was as though the Devil…was making a concession in exchange for something…else.

"This has been my fear all along, Seung." Jin continued. "That the web weaved before me would catch us both…and now that you know the secrets inside of me…and what choices lay ahead…you know why I have pulled you close with one arm and pushed you away with another." Jin took a slow pull of breath, casting his glance down for a silent moment before returning to those amber eyes. There was something changing in Hwoarangs gaze…something that seemed almost..predatory.

"Do you think I am scared of you?" Hwoarang challenged as he flicked the ashes of his cigarette into the circular base that held the candle between them.

"You do not need to be. I am afraid enough for the both of us." Jin sighed softly, trying to deflect the need in Hwoarang to prove himself over and over again, to rise to a challenge like a soldier to war. The Japanese youth was not sure which was more dangerous to balance…his own sudden shift that was creeping into him…or the Koreans' dark ambition for bravado and Sadomasochism.

Hwoarang clenched his jaw, breathing in the smoke that circled him as he stood. "I told you once and I will say it again. What's mine is mine and I don't release anything I sink my claws into. You are not running away from me. Not now, not ever again."

Jin felt the tension thicken between them. If the aura continued, a fight would ensue…a fight for nothing more than a fleeting feeling, a fear of future events and the foreboding forecast he could see behind his eyes.

The Japanese youth cracked his neck to the side as his eyes locked onto Hwoarang…an action that echoed the Koreans mannerisms more than his own. That gnawing feeling was returning to Jin…that sensation that spoke of darkness, somewhere inside of himself though he tried his best to cloak it. "I am not running from you, Seung."

Hwoarang watched as Jin rose, his eyes following every familiar muscular twitch…as though he were a feral cat tracking his prey. The Japanese youth closed the distance between them, candlelight glinting off the remnants of sweat that cooled against his naked torso. Ebony tendrils clung to the side of Jins face and neck, making him a twilight apparition of forbidden desire.

Jins fingers slid up to the metal zipper that held the tight vest to the Koreans body. It hissed as it made its way to the end of its mating, giving breath and fires glow to Hwoarangs toned torso. "Whatever comes…never believe I further from you than this."

The Japanese youths fingers slid against Hwoarangs neck, at the join of the shoulder. He felt his lover tense and cast his eyes to the flush that fell over the Koreans features as fingertips danced at the bite tendered area, still swollen from last nights feral attentions.

Hwoarangs eyes narrowed even as his hand dropped the burnt down cigarette butt he had been clutching to the floor, crushing whatever embers remained beneath his boot. Nicotine tainted fingers slid up Jins spine, into the mass of ebon tendrils that awaited him. "Pain…makes me hard."

Jin felt the pressure at his spine, roaming up into his tangled mane. His free hand trailed down to the source of Hwoarangs heat…to find the words the Blood Talon whispered…were truth. "Receiving your pain…makes me hungry."

The fiery Korean grasped Jin close to him, till his lover could feel the heat of his breath against his face. "Lets see how hungry I can make you…" Hwoarang groaned as Jins fingers danced against his denim bound length. He lowered his mouth slowly, feeling his lovers lips open….warm, slick muscle twining out into the cool air, seeking its mate.

Jin moaned into the mouth that met him, fingers pressing into the bite tendered place at Hwoarangs shoulder, just to feel his lover tense and arch into the hand that toyed against the denim length he craved. Jins thirsty mouth drank the hot wine of the Blood Talons lips…only increasing the desire to submit, even as the fires of hell began to rage beneath his skin, making the Japanese youths' shoulders ache….the pain of wings thirsty for the air of flight.

"Have me…here and now…or I will be forced to repeat last nights events…just to see you sob with relief." Jin hissed in shallow breath as Hwoarangs mouth released his own. The Blood Talons eyes narrowed at his lovers shocking words, half wanting to accept the offer but refusing to show his willingness to submit to Jins growing darkness.

"The only tears that will come will be when I make you beg." Hwoarang hissed, grasping Jins obsidian tendrils with a gloved grip, forcing his lovers neck to bend to his puppetry.

"Seung." Jin moaned as he felt a hot tongue torment the fresh flesh at the join of his neck and shoulder. It was teeth he wanted in his skin…and the desire for such darkness was as startling as it was frightening. His lovers dominance was calming the beast inside of himself.

Hwoarangs eyes shot up as though hearing an enemy in the midst, his laving tongue vanishing from his lovers skin. He listened, just past the heated breath that fled Jins lips…for the sound to come again. A series of knocks to the door echoed down the narrow hall, louder this time than last.

"Come on. Get off each other and let me in!" Came the familiar squeal from the outer hall.

"It seems we have company." Hwoarang snickered and slowly withdrew his fingers from Jins feathery tendrils. "Wanna invite her to watch?"

Jin straightened his spine as his lover slowly withdrew the heat he craved for the sake of his sanity. "Don't answer the door…don't stop." _Please…save me…._

The Blood Talon pursed his lips, even as the knocking grew louder, as did the voice that echoed into the room. "That doesn't sound like you, baby. I think you've got a little too much of me in your system." _Or a little too much…demon._

Jin narrowed his eyes and forced himself to regain his breath. Hwoarang was right…this was not him..not him at all. What was happening? Why could he not seem to get control of himself… "Your right…we should let her in." He said, only half meaning his words.

"Might want to adjust that Gi…your casting a shadow." The Blood Talon gave that half cocked grin as he looked over Jins throbbing state. "God damn, I wanna break you open." He licked his lips, giving Jin one more look before brushing a hand back through coppery tendrils, moving toward the persistent knock at the door.

Jin breathed out heavily, readjusting his desire as he watched the shadow of Hwoarang slip down the narrow hall…like prey evading his claws. Lings invasion felt like a threat…everything apart from Hwoarang against his body…felt like a threat.

The Demon was rattling its fleshy cage…the shackles…were breaking….

The Japanese youth slid his fingers into his hair, two hands rushing through as though trying to block out the sensations refilling within him. This moment felt like the last chance to regain himself…to have Hwoarang control what was building inside him, subjugate the darkness…by taming the body. _What is happening to me?_

(Chapter Break)

Kazuya ran the tip of a long, manicured nail against the paper before him, scratching a deep line, repeatedly into the parchment. His breath was slow and controlled as his brow lifted to the suppliant who sat opposite his desk.

"You understand what this means?" Came the dark and yet sultry voice of the Middle Aged Mishima.

"Yes." The voice that responded was crude and guttural in comparison.

"You will see to it that your former compatriot is found. His lure will assuredly bring Kazama Jin to his senses….to face me in the semi final round. Once I have what is mine…Mishima Heihachi….will cease to exist." _Old scores…are close to being reckoned._

Kazuya leaned back in the arm chair, drawing his fingers just beneath his chin in a bridge formation. The tracks had been laid in place….ready for the train to roll forward…and into his tactical clutches. "You understand the price for failing me at this capture?"

"Yes….Mishima-sama. I…I understand." Came the soft swallow of breath and what little saliva left in Saatchi's mouth. His life was the bargaining chip, that was the price of a deal struck with the devil…

"I want Hwoarang out of the way….and I want it to look…as sudden as it is violent. I want what is inside of my son to rise like a phoenix from the ashes. Anger is subjugation. Complete surrender is what I expect of Kazama Jin. Total obedience is what I expect from you." Kazuya gave a cold smile as he looked once more to the tournament roster posted just an hour ago. If he had time, he would delight in the sweet torture of the Korean Gang leaders pleads for death. There were other matters to attend to…other pawns to move in this game.

"I will do as you ask." Saatchi said, biting the edge of his nail, unable to look upon the ghastly face he recalled from the Den. Chang….poor Chang…unendingly loyal to the thug who called himself leader…refusing to stand down to the devil himself. What was he supposed to do, end up like the rest? No…Kazuya had spared him…and even now, he was thankful for his life and a chance to obliterate Hwoarang. It was the Blood Talons fault…it was Hwoarang who called up this beast…by indulging in sin with the son of a monster.

"Do well by me, Saatchi….and the reward will be great, indeed. Temper that with the idioms of failure…and do not flinch at the sword strike. My talons are sharper than steel."

Shaking, Saatchi rose from the requested meeting and quickly moved to the door, his head down in anger and shame…in fear and hatred. His fingers lingered over the pocket of his jeans, where the cell phone and number were kept. The Korean Military…would soon know where to find their AWOL soldier.

Kazuya rose from behind the desk as a smile formed over his features as Saatchi exited his office. "What we want is now in our grasp."

_//A more perfect trap could not be set, than this well planned, well staged event. Kazama blood is weak and predictable, afterall.//_

_(Chapter Break)_

Ling was poised to pound at the door once more. She could hear voices inside, low and sultry…but this was far more important than the needs of the flesh. At least, from her point of view.

Hwoarang, vest undone, parted the portal with such a quick motion, Ling fell back a step. "Midget."

"Oh god damn, you scared the life out of me!" The Chinese beauty responded with an exasperated growl, leaning in with a sudden open hand slap to the Blood Talons bare upper arm. "Don't do that again!"

The Korean pursed his lips and quirked a brow at Lings sudden assault. "This better be important. Your interrupting what was the makings of a good hard fuck."

"Totally gross." _Totally hot._ Ling blushed and produced the paper she had been holding in her free hand, bringing the treasure up to Hwoarangs eyes, not a scant inch from his nose. "Tournament posting. Important enough?" She said with a half smile, half sense of indignance. "But if you don't want to see it, I can go."

Lings shoulders heaved and she turned on her heel. There was no real intention of walking away…just enough drama to make Hwoarang believe it.

"Stop your shit and get inside." The Blood Talon snickered as Ling turned, pushing past Hwoarang…only to have the tournament posting list grasped from her hand as she moved.

"Hey, that wasn't fair!" Ling huffled as Hwoarang closed the door, flipping on the light switch to illuminate the dark pathway into the living room. "I don't know how Jin puts up with you, rude as you are."

"I love your compliments, midget." Hwoarang snickered, shaking his head to the side.

Ling rolled her eyes and walked into the living room, her smile reforming as she saw Jin seated on the leather couch in his Gi pants…fingers splayed through his dark tendrils as he held his head. "Hey Jin! Are you a sight for sore eyes. Where have you been hiding yourself?"

"Well, well. Seems like I get some revenge on the ol' man. My match tomorrow is Mishima Kazuya…10am…and Jin here gets our boy Steve…9am. We can finish with these two and still have breakfast in bed. No cooking required." Hwoarang said with a smile, folding up the tournament paper and stuffing it into his pocket.

Ling was not paying attention. Jin was so quiet, so still that the hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end. "Hey, Jin are you alright?" She said, leaning down onto her haunches, placing one hand on the Japanese youths knee.

Jin jolted slightly at the touch, the sound of his teeth grinding, instantly filled the room. "I am not well." He said in a husky, dark voice.

Ling rose up and turned to Hwoarang. "Maybe we should make him some tea…he sounds incredibly gruff. Jin, do you want some tea?"

The Japanese youth exhaled sharply, his lips though barely visible, curled into a sneer. "I don't want any fucking tea…I need something darker…heavier….sweeter…hotter."

Hwoarang narrowed his eyes, even as Ling nearly blanched at the way Jin barked at her. Never had he said a single disrespectful word to her…and this was far more than she was prepared for. "I was only asking, Jin. You don't have to be so mean. Damn it, Hwoarang, what did you do to him? He was never like this before…." she was cut off before her thought could continue…

"Go home, Ling. You are not wanted here." Jins tone was softer but no less potent in the words he spoke. The battle was raging inside of him…and his shoulders were slowly starting to ache…

Hwoarang stepped in against Jin, brushing his fingers down his lovers naked back, drawing the Japanese youth to gaze upward. Chocolate brown eyes were leaking with molten silver…like droplets of mercury in dark water…

"Close your eyes, Jin." Hwoarang said quietly before turning to look at Ling. "He isn't feeling well…don't take it too seriously, Midget. Thanks for the posting but you should get going…before he gets any sicker_." Its not a request, its a warning._

Ling was awash in strange sensations that mingled with her own indignance. Something was wrong with this scene and Ling hated nothing more than being lied to and disrespected to boot. "Well, to hell with you both then." She gasped and turned on her heel, pausing a moment to see if either would prevent her leaving. When nothing was said, no movement made, Ling muttered curses beneath her breath in Chinese and she strode confidently, prideful to the door…slamming it behind her as she exited.

(Chapter Break)

Jin cried out as Hwoarang drove pain deep into his body. Every thrust was an exorcism, each heaving breath salvation. Blood filled his senses, running in rivulets down the Koreans chest between the Half Demons stuck teeth.

Hwoarang held Jin captive to the floor to avoid further scratches from the talons that extended from the Japanese youths nailbeds. Sweat dripped from the Koreans forehead to his lovers skin as he pressed himself deep…hard into the gates of the Japanese youths body. Every sweet cry of agony only fueled Hwoarangs dark desire…till he could feel the demon inside of Jin retreating…

(Chapter Break)

The Blood Talon stood in the kitchen, taking heavy draughts of water to replace electrolytes that had been so sorely depleted. His body was raw from the onslaught, his skin drained and replenished of vital blood…and though he savored the taste of Jin…it did nothing to vanquish the remainder of his thirst.

The Korean fished through the kitchen for something to eat, something to sustain the pain in his gut now that his lover was sated and sleeping. Sex had been like a deliciously painful crime scene…and his chest and back paid the price, gashed open and bloodied. Once he had sated his appetite, a shower would be in order…the longer he waited, the longer Jin would sleep, undisturbed…and the greater the risk of infection ran for the open areas of his flesh. At least he had learned something in the SpecOps unit of the military.

Grasping a jar of Korean pepper paste, Hwoarang withdrew eggs from the refrigerator…a bottle of oil and a frying pain from the cabinet. Protein was a requirement to help his body reassess and refunction….to heal the delicious damage devoutly inflicted.

Just as the Blood Talon began to prepare his fried eggs, a knock came to the door. The clock display said 11pm…only Chang would show up this late…and Chang was still in the hospital. That revenge would take place…soon enough.

"Open the door or I am kicking it down." Came that familiar Chinese voice and the repetitive pounding of her fist that threatened to do just as she promised…or else, wake Jin along with half of the Yurei district.

"Fucking hold it down, Midget. People in this building work for a damn living." Hwoarang growled as he flung the door open, meeting Lings angry flushed features.

"Where is Jin, we need to talk." Ling said with a narrowed glance, pushing past Hwoarang to the kitchen. Only when she turned to face the Korean, did her angry features fade into something more akin to concern. "Oh my god, what happened to you? Are you alright?"

Hwoarang looked down his chest to the bite visible area of torn flesh, just above his heart. Dried blood clung to his skin in flakes…and when his eyes met Lings, the guilt for his act was more than visible.

"Jin did this to you? Oh my god that looks bad. We should get you to a doctor..you might need a tetnus shot or something! That could get infected…" Lings hand went to her mouth as her eyes clung onto the ghastly vision.

"Its alright…this will heal…" Hwoarang said with a slight stammer, not quite sure how to react to Lings sudden flush of worry. This debauchery had become a craving, par for course….but to the Chinese youths eyes, it was an angry wound made of hatred..not of lust and love.

"We really should clean that up!" Ling said, grasping the kitchen towel that hung on the handle for the stove, knowing it was probably never used. She ran the hot water and soaped the towel, ringing it out before the Korean could say a word. "Here, hold this against the skin…."

Hwoarang took the towel and did just that, not really knowing how to stop Lings concerned ministrations. It was touching…to see someone other than his gang..or Jin…care about him. "Really, its alright."

"Why did he do this to you? What is wrong with him!" Ling said, with a gasp, forcing pressure to the area where Hwoarang held the whet soapy towel.

"Are you going to tell her…what we do in our bedroom…or anywhere else in this apartment?" Jins voice was soft, his words less menacing by the return of his placid tone…yet the defensiveness seemed to catch in the air and hang there like a corpse.

Hwoarang felt his lovers presence before Jin began to speak. "I trust you slept well, baby." That slow, devious smile fell over the Blood Talons lips as he glanced over his shoulder to view Jins half clothed body…and in that simple view, his entire demeanor changed.

"Incredibly well." Jin said, his sable gaze returned as he crossed his arms before his chest and leaned his shoulder against the wall of the kitchen.

Ling jolted in astonishment. She had not heard Jin approach…and now that he made his presence known from behind the Blood Talon, she could see a dark bite tendered area just along the inside of the Japanese youths shoulder. It too had been bleeding although the area seemed to be more healed than the mark on Hwoarangs chest. How was that possible?

"What..what is going on?" Ling said in a shaken voice, stepping back till she felt the chair in front of the breakfast table hit against her backside.

"Its just a little something private…between lovers…" Jin said as he pressed off the wall and drew up alongside of Hwoarang…protectively, defensively. His fingers reached for the towel the Korean had pressed to his skin and removed it…tossing it into the sink. "I take pride in the way it looks…."

"…and the way it feels." Hwoarang completed the sentence and the sentiment as sienna eyes locked to his lovers gaze. It was as though Ling no longer existed when he held Jins eyes.

"This isn't natural, Jin." Ling said, even more shaken by the Japanese youths words and movements. The pride was echoing through the room for such destruction, such obvious pain….such…unbelievable acts. "Blood…your drinking each others blood!?"

"Nothing has ever felt more natural, Ling. Nothing has ever tasted so good, been so fulfilling as Hwoarang…his very life force running through my own." Jin spoke though his eyes never left his Korean lover.

"The idea that something of Jin is always inside of me…" Hwoarang continued where Jin left off, the previous soreness and hunger replacing itself slowly with dark desire, rekindled.

"You both sound crazy! What the hell is happening to you…both of you!" The Chinese youth felt like the last person on earth that made sense. "Don't you know how dangerous it is…diseases and illnesses, infections…your not vampires!" Her hand went to her pale face, the shock refusing to absorb into her skin.

"What we do is our own business, Midget. No one asked you to storm in here and start making judgments." Hwoarang said in a dark voice.

"How long have you been doing this.." Ling asked, the fear still present in her voice.

"Again, none of your business. Now, you stormed in here all pissed off…don't you have a piece of your mind to give Jin so you can get the fuck out?" The Blood Talon scanned his eyes over Jins body, that hunger building once more.

"Jin…something is very wrong with your aura…something is so very fractured, like a mirror that has been dropped. I have been sensing it since that night at the opening of the tournament and its gotten worse…its like your changing….and I am afraid..I am afraid for the both of you." Ling said as tears welled into the rim of her eyes. Why did neither of them seem to see what she could see?

"Maybe its evolution. Maybe it is the way I was born and the way I am meant to be. What if it is strength and not weakness. What if I am finally aligned to my path." Jin said, finally tearing his eyes away from Hwoarang, though the hunger was visible as his gaze ripped away. The sense of protectiveness and pride that surrounded him wanted to possess his beautiful Seung Roh…

"Maybe your just…losing your mind. Jin…you know this is not right…you know what you are doing with him is wrong…its blood Jin…its not meant for drinking, its meant for living." Frustration was welling up with anger and fear, mingling deep in Lings chest. "Hwoarang…please…snap out of this…be the rational one for a change. Please."

"What if it is meant for both?" Jin replied with a non chalance that was reminiscent of the Blood Talons demeanor rather than his own.

"I think you should go, Ling. I don't think there is anymore to say tonight." Hwoarang arched a brow, even as Ling began to move….her body stiff and her eyes strong on the two wounded lovers. He could read the concern…and he understood it…even if he did not want to.


	20. Epilogue: The Forge Darkens

Chapter 19

The Forge Darkens

Epilogue

Hwoarang awoke to find Jin was no longer beside him in the bed. The sheets were tangled beneath his body, ripped away in the second part of last nights passion. Rubbing his eyes, he turned to view the red digital display beside him. 8am. Jins match was scheduled for 9am.

Throwing on his discarded jeans from last night, the Blood Talon exited the bedroom, sienna falling on his lovers form as the Kata Jin had been performing followed motion to block, kick to stance. He leaned his shoulder against the wall and watched, noting every bead of sweat that slid like rain from the Japanese youths flushed, working body.

Following Lings late night visit, the two had fell into rapacious glory that started in the kitchen and made its way back into the bedroom. The hunger present in both of them had been shocking after such a glorious work out not an hour prior…and Hwoarang had screamed his lovers name in dark debauchery as Jin sought complete control over him. Such a rare thing to happen had become a craving, as deep as the desire for Jin's blood on his tongue. Where they soaring toward Heaven or crashing into Hell?

Jin bowed east, signaling the end of the Kata. He grasped his blue towel from the floor and drew it up against his features, patting lightly at the sweat that pooled just above his thick brows. "You're up earlier than I expected." He smiled, eyes drinking in Hwoarangs form, jeans undone…copper tendrils wild around such angular features. Last night his fiery Korean had been ravished, just as eagerly as Jin himself had been taken not long before that.

"Your side of the bed was cold…and I wanted to wish you luck before you head off for the tournament." Hwoarang returned the smile that formed over Jins lips. "Where's my good morning kiss, baby?"

Jin drew in toward Hwoarang, his fingers snaring the belt loops of the Blood Talons half open jeans. "As though I would miss the pleasure?"

Hwoarangs fingers slid into Jins ebony mane, working through the sweaty tendrils as he drew his lovers face toward him. "I have better uses for your mouth…than words."

Jin fell in against the Koreans mouth, his tongue twining past familiar lips to see the slick muscle mate he could never taste enough of. The salty sweat of his skin pressed into the tender but already healing area of the Blood Talons chest he had torn into the night before. He could feel the tensing of Hwoarangs body at the slight pain caused by concentrated salt in the wound…in turn, the Blood Talon drank from the kiss, deepening it to a dangerous level.

Jin pressed back slowly, breaking the intimacy with a slow hiss of breath. "I have to save what strength I have left, though I doubt I will use even half of it with your former lover."

Hwoarang let the smile fade from his lips. "That's over with, Jin. I told you, that was one fucking week out of my life. It's you and me…for real."

Jin cleared his throat and tried to regain his smile, though he had awoken to train with one single purpose in mind…to devastate the British Boxer…who never should have made it this far in the tournament to begin with. Since when was Boxing a martial art?

"My words have gotten away from me." Jin said, raising the towel to once more blot the cooling sweat that rode against his features as he quickly changed the subject. "I am worried about your fight against Mishima Kazuya…you have seen his skill first hand…and you know now, it is unnatural."

"Well, let's just see dear ol' daddy start turning purple and sprouting wings in this fight. I know his secret now…and I have a score to settle with him. I will carve Changs name into his skin with my spurs. You can make bank on that, baby." Hwoarang huffed, defenses going up like a prison wall at the mere concern Jin had. "A week ago, he caught me off guard. I'm not bringing a fucking knife to a gunfight this time."

"Just be careful, alright. I am going to grab my gear and head out…" Jin brushed a hand back through his hair after righting the towel about his massive shoulders.

"Do you want me to drop you off?" Hwoarang shuffled his bare foot against the floor.

"No, I could use the stretch to prepare. I will come back here after the fight or do you want me to find out where your match is and go there instead?" Jin asked as he gathered the shirt he had brought out from the bedroom with him earlier. Removing the towel, he slid the white cotton T over his upper body, taking up his gloves, arm and shin guards and placing them on the leather couch.

"I will meet you back here. Probably will be just as quick. Want me to stop and pick up anything on the way home?" Hwoarang asked in mid yawn.

"Just bring yourself home, I do not think I need anything else." Sliding his sneakers and warm up jacket on, Jin tied off the gear he was prepared to carry and slung it over his shoulder. "Seung Roh. Be careful, alright?"

Hwoarang waved the words off with his usual flippant gestures. "Pops needs to be careful of me. I will see you later."

Jin leaned in to taste of Hwoarangs lips one last time…..

(Chapter Break)

Hwoarang stepped out of the shower and dried himself off. Sliding on his dobok, and tying off his dobok-ki he drew into the living room and grasped his pack of cigarettes. Sparking the cylinder to life, the Blood Talon breathed in the smoke and let the nicotine do its beautiful work.

Lings' words haunted him. The shock and horror in her face were ripe in his thoughts as he imagined what the scene must have unfolded to for her. He could barely recall the first time he had tasted Jins blood…somewhere in the pleasure of their first night together, the night he snuck into the Compound through Jins balcony. How had he managed to not crave the taste of Jins blood for so much time, only to find himself wanton of it at every possible avenue? Perhaps it had been the change from small droplets on accident to willful sips in the heat of pleasure.

Eitherway, Hwoarang wondered if something inside of him would change…as the change overcame Jin…subtle at first but more and more drastic when it arrived. He did not fear such a thing…merely what it would do to them..when would they stop…if they could?

Flicking the ashes from his cigarette into an overfilled ashtray, Hwoarang began to slide on his boots when he heard a crackle at the window…like a door opening too suddenly that releases pressure from another place.

The Korean was up in a shot, his cigarette falling from his lips with the motion, his bare foot crushing it inadvertently as the door to the apartment was kicked open.

"Sergeant! He is here!" Came the first guttural words of his native Korean. A flurry of soldiers filtered in, flanking him on right and left with the scopes of guns falling against his open dobok.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me.." Hwoarang hissed and fell into stance….

(Chapter Break)

Jin Kazama ran through the Yurei district as a dark, foreboding feeling came over his previously slow and even walk. After besting Steve in a bloody battle where he felt his pride vindicated, Jin had been eagerly looking forward to returning to Hwoarang…even if a part of him desperately wanted to first go to the match sight where the Blood Talon would be fighting against his sire. Jin had little trust of Mishima Kazuya…and now, those fears were wild and realized.

Scanning with his mind and thoughts, Jin fought desperately to find Hwoarang. There was only blackness…anger and pain. Those feelings pushed the Japanese youth faster on the path…equal in pace to what flight the devil within him so desperately wanted to take.

Grasping the door ledge, Jin rushed inside the hall, only noticing as he paused to breath…that the outside door had been ripped off the hinges. Looking up the stairs, the Japanese youth felt a sudden rising fear…

…Taking the steps two at a time, Jin came upon the ghastly sight. Hwoarangs door had been kicked in, the force enough to splinter the hinges from the wood itself. Tearing into the apartment, what met the Japanese youth…was frightening.

The apartment had been torn to shreds. Couch overturned, broken glass from the windows littering the floor…small odds and ends laying across the room as though a great battle had raged in the dwelling.

"Seung!" Jin cried out, rushing into the bedroom and bathroom checking and finding no sight of Hwoarang. He returned to the living room, the scene of greatest disaster and knelt down on the floor. A crushed cigarette, half way smoked lay amidst the rubble…blood on glass…Hwoarangs blood.

The Japanese youth cried out with a dark rage that threatened to shake the apartment building to its foundation….

…and there, in the rubble of the life he and Hwoarang had begun to build…was a handwritten note.

"Final Stage. Go to the Honmaru. I will be waiting for you."

(This completes the second installment of "The Sword Maker Trilogy." Be on the look out for the final story, "The Re-Forging of the Blade (Reveals a Superior Design), found on the Mishima Compound. Thank you for every review!!)


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